


Hallow

by Courtorderedcake



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Dark One Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, M/M, Other, Princess Emma Swan, The Dark One (Once Upon a Time)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-29 02:23:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 188,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20074561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courtorderedcake/pseuds/Courtorderedcake
Summary: "The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King's will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time."This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.





	1. Once upon a time...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kmomof4](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kmomof4/gifts), [Doodlelolly0910](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doodlelolly0910/gifts).

> Thank you for reading this, it's my baby that I have written over and over for two years now.
> 
> Countless people have given me advice, changed my way of thinking, changed the way these characters think, and given me love and support. It has been a labor of love and terror, as I have been unwilling to let myself publish this out of fear of reception. What if people hate what I have loved so long?
> 
> What if people dislike the characters I've watched grow in my own words, from two flawed characters in their own right, to two flawed characters who know their strengths and use them? Will anyone understand the idea of two unlikely and hopeless people in the worst circumstances coming together? Will the choices they make over all make sense in the greater story?
> 
> Without the people I have had cheering me on, I don't know how I could have gotten to a point where I could have asked those questions. 
> 
> So this is for you, my loves.  
Kmomof4 for being an unending supply of positivity, even when I wanted to give up all together.
> 
> UltraLuckyCatND, for being the best, most patient, understanding, detective of context without context, punctuation machine level efficient Beta a lady could ask for. Your commentary was like waking up to Christmas presents, especially when you liked my curse words.
> 
> Shireness, Bleebug, Clockadile, Svenja, ResidentofSB, Salem, Doodle, Sherlockwhovian, K-Whump, and Hollye for always answering my off the wall questions with very little detail perfectly, and with no judgment.
> 
> To the newcomers to the Fandom who I may (definitely) stalk, and who unknowingly made me realize that this pairing can go to space, infinity, and beyond. That means you Satellites, Prof, and Raines.
> 
> To the many others who I Tag, message, who have sent me kind words about Riptide or my Horticulture problem, those who read my crack fic(s) and didn't blacklist me from CS events, those who know I will go to bat for them, and that I know will go to bat for me, and those I know will hate this with every fiber of their being but be unwilling to say so outside of private spaces that collect dust in their stagnation. 
> 
> I present, Hallow.

* * *

Once upon a time...


	2. I.

It started when Emma was young and mostly alone. There were very few other children in the Royal Court, let alone the palace lands. Emma had no siblings or cousins to play with either as Fae birth was rare and arduous. She had her parents when they weren’t busy appeasing some Duchy or Lord and Lady, those in the court who tolerated her, or the staff when they weren’t busy with their duties, but it wasn’t enough. Emma felt as though no one really gave her any real one-on-one attention, and with no need for a nanny (the ones nannies they had tried and she drove to madness as proof positive) in the confines of the palace, Emma roamed from room to room and hallway to hallway in search of anything to do or anyone to be with.

Her parents loved her fiercely and she grew up knowing this; the times they spent together were wonderful. She especially loved holidays and the spare moments where her mother conjured her namesake snowflakes, or her father whistled at elk to come closer to nibble apples. Her father thrived in the sunny plains, wildflowers and crops bending to hear his whispers, winds obeying his laughing commands. Her mother preferred moonlight on branches covered in silver ice, blue birds in spring singing while red birds in winter cracked seeds in their beaks, the way water moved in gurgling streams, and the coziness of a nap in root hollows. Palace life kept them away from their special places more as Emma grew. 

The palace of the Fae was the grandest in all the realms, or so she had read. Most of the structures were newly built after the Great War , but some pieces had been brought through a portal from the mortal realm, their stunning beauty remarkable. The palace itself was huge, sections unused but for celebrations happening only every few centuries. The main palace consisted of the kitchens, the Royal suites, the courtier suites, dining areas, library, music room, receiving rooms, the grand halls, and servants quarters. She found refuge in the kitchens occasionally, their excellent cook Granny allowing Emma to help, or on some days play with her granddaughter Ruby. They had originally played tag and made mud cakes, but Ruby's grandmother had been in such a snit after, that she punished Ruby with forbidding her to play like that again. They instead played dolls or made bead necklaces, but Granny kept a watchful eye, usually making Ruby work instead. 

Granny said she was strict because their friendship wasn't properly sanctioned, although she had petitioned. The King and Queen had written they were to be away a few more weeks, so it was unsurprising. Promising to be careful, Granny eased off slightly, and Emma looked forward to those few hours each week as she wandered lonely halls. 

It was in one of the older sections of the palace that she found him during her weekly wandering.

He always answered her, no matter the time of day or night, and most importantly he was kind. He had a wiseness in his voice that as a child was soothing, as he happily watched her play with dolls or spin a hoop. 

When she began her schooling, she read to him in passing moments. 

“And thus, the Goblin horde released a great evil that corrupted their land and sought a host. The Goblin King was… was… Pre…” She faltered on the word. 

“Prepared. The Goblin King was prepared,” he corrected. 

“Thank you! The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred and rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent. The Fae Navy was culled, all but a few regiments surviving. We honor those lost to The Dark Massacre on Gray Day." Emma felt her throat tighten at the thought of the dreary holiday and its muted muslin gowns. They sat in silence for a whole day, lighting candles as those who had lost someone made their pilgrimage. Liam made a soft tutting noise when she didn't continue after a long moment. 

"It was no matter, for the Goblin King had a special blade to command the Darkness, the Vorpal blade. Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King's will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time. Long live the Fae dil N'lans Court, long live The King and Queen dil N'lans.”

“Lovely job Emma!” her painting whispered. 

The name plaque below revealed his name. ‘CAPTAIN LIAM JONES, FAMILY BLACKWATER, IN MEMORIAM’ she read, tracing her fingers on the raised golden letters. He had been in the Fae Navy, the same that had their sails on display in a tapestry room. The same Navy that had sacrificed everything, her lessons making sure to remind her. She dutifully laid flowers and folded banners across stone cairns when she was trotted out at Navy remembrance events with some understanding. Death and the wars seemed to be such abstract thoughts, never having experienced them but in her studies. In fact, Emma wasn’t sure what memoriam meant in its entirety. Having a vague idea of someone being gone was the only thing she had to compare, but when she asked Liam, he told her not to worry. She trusted him and followed his advice. 

As she grew into a woman, Emma learned what it meant, and understood his reluctance - and her own subconscious'. The painting that had been her closest confidante and holder of all her precious secrets (for example when she had stolen a plate of cinnamon pastries meant for a Lord, eating them all high up in a tower) was just that. A painting. A painting of a man that had been a captain in the Great War, until he had perished in the Dark Massacre. There was no real Liam - just an imaginary friend that kept her company until time passed and she could truly take her place among the court. 

This realization did not stop her visits nor his wise voice in her head. She visited as often if not more than before, bitterness from stretched days of being told how to sit just so, or how to cover her glare when a noble acted like a pretentious ass in her presence seeped into her conversations. He soothed her loneliness as it leaked further into her life, and she would not part with him. 

She told Liam about her parents. 

How she couldn’t leave the palace without a royal escort, a dozen men accompanying her to pick a bouquet as their horses trampled the meadow, destroying the flowers. Or how she snuck down to a grotto and swam, sometimes in just a slip for the thrill of the indecency. Emma longed for any of the village children as playmates, but her royal duties, courses, and “proper decorum” (as her mother would say) kept her from any sort of real connections. Her books, all of the tales of the realms and the old world weren't enough anymore without being able to see outside of the palace, but any talk of change was ended in heated argument. She knew nothing but the safety of her palace, but how could she dare opine, and to who? Not for lack of trying or arguing - King David passed down his courage, and Queen Snow had passed down her stubbornness. Emma heard their remarks of what a combination it was every quarrel. 

While some of the other young ladies of the court had taken suitors or begun courting, Emma was sure the result of any such thing happening to her would cause her father to go truly mad. King David had almost caused interrealm diplomatic incidents in trade with his attitudes towards certain sons of Lords that had looked at Emma too long.

She told Liam about her tutors. 

Ruby, a woman beyond skilled in tracking was easily her first real, and royally approved, friend. The Queen herself had allowed the girl further privileges in the palace, placing Ruby in the same decorum classes as Emma, much to Granny's delight and Ruby's dismay. Ruby made do by skipping them, a feat that Emma could never attempt. Ruby's talents were wasted on sewing, curtsies, or dancing; her quick wit and ridiculous half true stories leaving her as cunning as a wolf. She easily talked King David into letting her have a tutor position teaching Emma about snares, edible plants, and tracking game or predators. Afterwards, Granny would bake Emma and Ruby treats with their foraged items, with extra to stow around for the Court. 

Emma adored her tutors August, a wood elf who specialized in History, and Jefferson, a pixie that taught the Arts. They had come together to the court after being married during war time and were easy to feel safe with. Jefferson could sing well enough to rival Queen Snow herself, and August gazed at him in constant adoration. While Emma studied her history quietly, August would make small wooden flowers or other creations that she would find in the music room the next day, lying on the piano or near the harpsichord. Jefferson’s prized possession was a broken and battered violin August had carved for him in the old world, the wood from the same tree as their small cabin. It was the only thing he took when they fled. 

There was Graham, a Fae that didn’t hail from any court that Emma knew of. Although, for a princess, or any woman of the court for that matter, it was rare to use a sword, The King and Queen demanded it. Graham was easy pickings next to her father. Her father had hired him to teach her sword play, but had since made no qualms about regretting it for various reasons. Emma was sure it was due to Graham's gaze beginning to linger too long on her lips. 

Liam had heard about her various refusals to court anyone due to her father, but when Graham brought Emma flowers at the beginning of a lesson and her father saw, he heard her rant about Graham's idiocy for hours. Now, the King stood sentry over every lesson, watching Graham sweat from swordplay with the addition of knowing that any slight flirting could end with him having to search for another job with one less arm. Emma hated that her father watched them.

The newest member of the court was a renowned bowsmith, one Mr. Locksley, hired by the Queen to teach Emma and fuel her passion for archery. Emma had never really felt a use for it, but dutifully accepted another task to fill the hours of her days - particularly if that task was avoiding her tutor of magickal arts, decorum, and deception. Regina.

She studied magical forces for harm with Regina, decorum, potion making, alchemy, lying, seductive disarmament (it was all in the cleavage, lewdly enough), state secrets, cryptography, political history, strategy, and trained herself against poisoning. Regina was one of her favorites to complain about. 

“She hates me, Liam. She makes it her mission to make me feel stupid. I can’t tell you how much we go over the same things, about how my parents united the realms with their marriage, how the realms are all connected but for one, and how the Goblins are banished until their next appeal,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “How many times do I have to hear the stories about brides getting stolen or my parents sealing the Darkness? I’m the proof they were successful, that the Darkness and Goblins are sealed away! Every appeal the Goblins have made has been either a disaster or violent. Sometimes both. Nothing is going to change.”

“Never bet against things changing, Emma,” Liam spoke in his low voice as she sat next to his painting, blowing blonde hair from her face. 

“Now you sound like her,” Emma pouted.

l

“Good. She’s teaching you something. Education is important and so is knowing your history. Our history.” He emphasized the last words, and Emma felt a pit in her stomach. 

“I hate that you’re right.” 

“You wouldn’t come here and sit with me if you liked me being wrong.” She could hear a smirk in his tone, though his portrait always showed him with the same determined grimace.

Sometimes Emma asked him about his life, on which he mostly stayed silent, his few answers vague.

“What were you like?” she'd whispered by candlelight as snow fell one evening.

“I loved my family and my land,” he told her, in an even reply.

She sighed, annoyed. “Yes, but I mean, were you a good man? A good leader? Did you deserve the love you were given?”

He was silent for a time, before speaking slowly as if with great thought.

“Emma, you'll learn this one day. Being good is subjective. What one man may think is good, another will see as monstrous. A good man can fall into darkness, someone steeped in the farthest trenches of evil can find the strength to redeem themselves. I believe I was good.” He paused, sighing lightly. “And no man can ever tell you if he deserved the love he received. Only the one who gives it willingly can.”

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It was bright outside as Emma walked barefoot in the grass. Ahead of her, Graham stood as stars fell from the sunlit sky like diamonds. 

Graham offered her a bouquet as he had last autumn, filled with buttercups, lavender, tulips, baby’s breath, cone flowers, and daffodils. His hands had lingered, warm and rough, as he stepped closer to her form. Her breath caught and her heart beat faster than any swordplay could bring. He’d looked at her lips, but this time her father hadn’t taken the crook of her arm to pull her away. This time, he stepped in closer, a hand cupping her chin as he led her to his lips and -

A hard smack of a book against her head pulled her out of her dream.

“Princess Emma.” Regina’s clipped tones were unmistakably irritated, even more so than usual. “Since you are so keen on paying attention, I suppose you’ve memorized the realms and their unique histories regarding our own?”

Emma sighed. No luck, she was still with Regina, still trying to fend off her parents’ worry as the Goblin appeal moved closer. 

“I’m sorry Regina.”

“You should be. The King and Queen have been up for days now preparing for the upcoming appeal, and the judgement of the realms. Do you think anyone but you are taking having Goblins in our realm lightly? Or that having the Royalty of the United Realms here will be easy?” She glowered at Emma, and Emma squirmed in her chair. 

“No I don’t, but I am ready to finally be apart of something more -”

“Princess, this meeting is more important than you will ever know. The outcome of this will change everything for you. You've been too young for the last three, and this one is more important than ever.” Regina smacked the book down on Emma’s table. “Recite.”

“And thusly, the accord was struck. The Darkness sealed in the old palace. The Goblins may appeal their desire for peace every 250 years in the service of a fully seated council. Regardless of the appeal’s outcome, trade will continue between realms, and the Goblin kingdom will present Dwarves with the iron they need to forge what Fae cannot, to mine Pixie Dust crystals for the Fae realms.” Emma recited from memory. She winced at the thought of iron. She couldn’t imagine how painful the burns would be, and envied Dwarves for their ability to work with it.

Regina smiled. “Good. Continue.” She paced, opening a fan to provide a breeze for herself. The Baroque style was her favorite to wear, deep cut necklines and a fan her go to wardrobe choice any time visitors were in the palace. 

“This trade must occur, or the Forge of Seven will cease to enchant the tools to extract dust and Pixie dust will be unable to be cultivated for the stability of the realms portals, shields, and wards,” she intoned. 

“And?” Regina asked, extending her fan. 

“Which in turn could let the Darkness, hidden somewhere in the realms free, destroy the realms, or allow banished Fae in, creating turmoil in the face of thousands of years of peace.” Emma finished, and looked up, still indifferent. 

“Alright. Now off to your music lesson. You’ll be playing for guests in the Blue Parlor.” Regina’s face had gone back to its normal dour expression and she shooed Emma off.

Emma hated visitors, never knowing when she would run into a dignitary, ambassador, or royal who expected her to hold conversation; or, as she was now, never knowing when she would be forced to entertain. Her parents’ worries had become an itch under her skin. No one believed she was ready for the Appeal. Admittedly, her decorum was… at best, icy. None of the Royals or courtiers were terribly interesting, content to discuss trade or gossip. Whenever possible, she bucked formality and toed the line with rules she thought were preposterous. Rituals and traditions she found unfavorable were done robotically and with constant sarcasm or little joy. Her reputation as a beautiful and quiet princess was paired with warnings of her lethal verbiage, and unwavering disdain for the older laws in Fae culture, leaving her circle of courtiers almost entirely closed. Those that sought her favor were quickly shot down, and those that persisted played on the razor-sharp edge of the Princess's amusement. Emma wanted more. 

She still visited Liam, even with the visitors milling around. His wing was dusted and set up for the lower courtiers who would not arrive until the appeal was in motion, which made it relatively safe. They wouldn’t be here for another few days. 

“See this?” she said, pointing to a picture in the book she found in the library. She showed him a picture of a bear. “They’re tiny in the old land and they can’t talk well. Have you been there? Or to any of the other realms?”

He didn’t answer, only made a humming noise of amusement.

“I just… I want to see everything.” She closed the book, tracing its peeling leather binding. “Liam, can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

She sighed, letting her head knock back against the stone. “I don’t want to rule.”

“It’s your duty, it isn’t a matter of want,” he said after a moment. He almost sounded wistful. 

“I know, but…” She looked up at the frame of his painting, trying to pretend that for just a moment the expectation of her birthright wasn’t a duty. “I just wish I’d had a chance to see anything. To do anything. To change things, and not sit rigidly until someone decides I can take my place in step with the set tread. I am going to be three thousand years old before I’ve even been kissed at this rate.” She thunked her head against the stone again. “I just want to know what the world has to offer before ruling it.”

“The world outside these walls isn’t everything. It’s good and bad, and a lot of in between.” His words were slow, and tired sounding. “Not everything is always going to be this way, no matter how much things seem to stay the same. Even you. Change can sneak up on you in an instant, Princess. You may find in time, the throne seems less like a cage and more like its own pair of wings.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She gathered up her books, heading back to her chambers. “I’ll see you after the appeal.”

She didn’t hear a reply.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

“Emma!” Her mother sounded so surprised to see her, having only spoken in passing for weeks now. “Oh, Emma, you look beautiful.” 

Emma sighed, the white dress beautiful on her frame. She fidgeted, and heard the seamstress hiss before a pin poked her thigh.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, Highness. Just, please stop moving -”

Emma huffed, uncomfortable. The appeal was starting soon and today had been a blur of misery. Her mother had managed to take time to see her here, and soon they’d walk to join her father in a greeting line. They’d greet the realms in order, lastly welcoming the Goblin envoy to their appeal, beginning the proceedings. This was the most important event she would have to attend at her station, her role heavy on her mind. All day she’d been puffed and preened, Regina had quizzed her for hours as she endured an ungodly amount of undergarments tied onto her. 

“There. You look stunning, Highness.” 

Emma looked in the mirror, and surveyed herself. Her hair was long and curled, white flowers and baby’s breath braided in a complex style along her crown, pieces pulled in loose waves that traveled down her back. The dress was fitted, the sharp square cut of the neckline made softer by the long lace sleeves falling about her wrists and a flare at the waist where layers upon layers of lace had been placed over traditional formal skirts. An over corset in the same white lace, pulled far too tight for her liking, finished the dress along with a train that fell behind which was only slightly less annoying. 

It was another reminder that it was for no one. She was a naive, protected princess who would have a match picked for her one day. Emma sighed. 

“Emma, you look radiant. Just beautiful,” her mother gushed, helping her off the seamstress’s pedestal. Emma's satin slippers made no noise on the stone floor. Another reminder that she was barely here at all, an ornament in an ongoing display. 

“Thanks.” She took a step, and to only further her annoyance, realized she’d have to hold up her skirts as she walked if she wasn’t to trip down a set of stairs. Emma huffed, but when her mother's head snapped up, she hid it behind a cough. 

“Are you ready for this?” Snow asked her, eyes gentle. Emma nodded, all emotions buried deep. ”Good. You’ll be fine.” She led Emma down the hallway, her father joining on her other elbow with a small, tired smile. It didn’t reach his eyes.

“There you are,” he whispered. “The two most beautiful women in all the realms.” Emma couldn't help the blush that crept up her cheeks, even if it was only her father saying it for kindness. She'd always been closer to him and his sunny disposition, finding comfort in his dismissal of the Royal Court’s norms. Lately, he chafed at her brisk dismissals, requests for freedom, and soured attitude regarding her duties; but today, it had been made abundantly clear, was about peace. 

He held the rigid posture and thin lipped smile that the weight his title demanded. Emma looked down at her slippers. The beading caught the light as they stepped into the chamber where a procession of their courtiers awaited. Everyone was dressed in their most garish finery, most chatting quietly amongst themselves. August and Jefferson were quarreling over if they looked too matched, August assuring his jittery husband that they looked fine and shooting a wink towards Emma. 

Ruby was talking animatedly with the others her age, telling tales as she often did to spook the courtiers. 

“Watch the Goblins… they'll take you as a bride if you aren't careful! They make you drink their blood and you get married in the dark all alone, no one to hear your -”

“Screams!” Graham jumped from behind them, causing several shrieks while he and Ruby laughed. Emma felt a flare of jealousy, not realizing Ruby and Graham had grown so close. It wasn't surprising, her docket had been full of late, and they were allowed more free time. They were allowed fun, and rendezvous, no chaperone or appointments to keep. Taking a breath, jealousy joined the other feelings that were neatly bottled away within and concealed. 

Regina stood apart, giving orders to several servants with Granny, confirming finishing touches and coordinating various tasks to solve anything that had gone amiss. Emma watched in bemusement as her archery instructor Locksley tried to gain a moment of her time to give her a rose for her hair, only to be ignored. He'd gone to tap her on the shoulder, only to have her scowling form round on him.

Emma didn't hear their conversation, but giggled, her parents both shooting her a look. She stifled it quickly.

With a clearing of her throat, Snow called the court to order.

“To another peaceful Appeal, and to the realms!” Snow proclaimed. 

The court echoed her, their voices carrying as they led the procession to the meeting hall, where royalty and representatives were arriving.

There, guards on either side of the archway leading to the Receiving Hall and Grand Reception beat their staves to grab attention. The hall hushed into quiet anticipation. The Receiving Hall steps had been decorated with a plush purple runner, covered in luminous dust and moon flower petals, white flamed chandeliers making the polished marble floor gleam like bone in contrast. As her parents were announced, Emma swallowed the stone in her stomach as she stepped forward when her turn arrived. 

“Princess Emma Swan N’Lan.” After a pause for bows, the guards used their staves to make three more echoing beats. “All may rise, and proceed to greet the Royal family.”

The procession that made its way to them was led first by their close kin, other Fae that held themselves to the Royal family's rule. Wood and Dark Fae greeted Emma with excitement, the latter in silvery clothes and kohl, the former in soft silk the color of autumn leaves. Pixies joined them shortly after, the rainbow of colors in their clothing shimmering only when hit by the light, reminding Emma of a beetle’s shell. 

The Dwarves came next, short and full of pride, jewels and ribbon braided through their long beards or coiffed hair. Many of them offered rings or jewelry to Emma or her mother, but protocol dictated she must decline as to not show favor, much to her dismay. Her mother wore a Dwarf fashioned tiara, and snuck in rings or jewels regardless of perception, but she showed favor to most - on the surface, at least. 

Their other close kin, the Elves, followed after. Tall, prideful, and very reclusive, they kept to themselves in a strict caste system. Emma had heard her father bemoan their interactions, calling them snobby and boring. Emma only thought they were beautiful, even without the ability to bend magic without a wand or channeling tool. They also could have children easier, which led to being reclusive in the first place, and the restrictive caste system leading to strong, ‘pure’ genes. Emma found that less beautiful, often decrying it to Regina in heated debate. 

The elementals that followed next were thin, tall, robed Fae, in a rainbow of colors and swathed in a myriad of shimmering auras that corresponded with their element. Shape-shifters, they were a delight to the eye to behold. Dark brown or moss-green elementals stood tall as trees, root and vines or wildflowers climbing their skinny limbs. The few silver or albino wore halos of moon flower on antlers, glowing faintly under the chandeliers. A few simply looked human, wearing court finery that was barely distinguishable between Emma's own. 

Their queen came last, a tall Hol blessed with the ancient curse of elemental enlightening, followed by her attendees that carried the same heavy gift. Snow had told Emma many times that it was these touched souls that had granted Emma her light magic, as it was written in their culture that her birth heralded a cosmic shift in balance after the war. They were a neutral party, never fighting unless the balance of the world had leaned, seeing all that could be and all that wasn't at once. Many of them traveled through time and the pocket realms to maintain the magic there, and prevent passage with unsanctioned portals or magic. Whatever side the scale tipped to in the end, they would find itself an ally in the Elementals. 

In an absurd twist, one of the younger of the Elementals had been appointed to Emma for a small amount of time. He had measured her magic, disconcerting at first due to his brilliance and his shifted appearance of a young child. Named Henry, the Elemental turned out to be mischievous, making plans with code names, and reviving Emma's love of pranks. After she was chastised soundly for 'Operation Cricket', the Duke terrified to open his closet to retrieve his trousers, their friendship had been mitigated. They had been cordial, but Regina had loved having a child (even just in appearance) around the palace again, and took over separating them from each other. For to short a while it was like having a sibling. Henry had chosen another form since then, no longer a child but a man. He gave a sly wave and Emma winked at him. 

The Seafolk (Sirens, Naiads, Mermaids and Nymphs) followed after, many wearing charms that allowed them to walk on land or suspending themselves in water. Emma shook hands with a curious crimson haired Mermaid princess encased in salt water, King David watching them amusedly as he spoke to the King of the Seafolk. The Anisapi tensed, but said nothing in that regard. There had been a long fight between the two races over the treatment of a race cast out by the war. Regina made it clear that Emma should know as little as possible about the entire sordid debacle, as not to ever show favor to either the Anisapi or the Seafolk. Any excuse to escape a lesson seemed good enough. 

The procession finally ended, the court taking a reception with the different realms as they awaited the Goblins. Emma felt exhausted, her cheeks aching from the fake smile she had been wearing. An Anisapi approached her, a tall monkey with golden fur and large brown eyes in a dark emerald waistcoat. He spoke for several minutes during which she nodded politely and enthusiastically, until his paw had found its way into her hair, and his reedy voice had lowered. 

An Anisapi female hurried over, another monkey with green ribbons braided in her reddish, bristling fur. She pulled the Lord away with multiple apologies and platitudes, and Emma composed herself. Anisapi were rarely so forward. Being primarily Fae and animal, they were trickster spirits yes, but not to their kin. Their Vizier, Pann, lounged on a chaise in his velveteen emerald vest coat, his goat haunches twitching as one of his satyr attendant boys fed him grapes. He gave Emma a saucy wink before pouring wine down his throat. 

Emma marched over his way, shooting glares at giggling fans and satyrs that Pann kept in his clutch, their self placed moniker of Lost Boys disconcerting at almost a millennia old. The court whispered rumors about him being a treatise breaker, but her parents had never caught him and had only pleasant dealings to speak of. Many still swore that he broke their laws with flagrant disregard, returning to the human world with impunity. Some even said he had a realm of his own, a terrible lair of horrors beyond imagination, called ‘Neverland’.

Emma was unfrightened. The Anisapi leader, Heston, was a wise and honorable Anisapi; one of the last true forest Gods of the old world. He was ancient, but very brave and incredibly strong, a boar the color of a thundercloud, tusks long and unforgivingly sharp. Pann stood no chance against him, even with deceit and trickery. 

“Do you mind Pann? Drinking before we begin seems -”

Pann snorted, arrogantly and without conceit. His snide tone reminded her of the trail a slug left, sticking to her skin like autumn leaves after rainfall. “Princess, I know you'd normally be in bed by now with a glass of milk, but wine is how some of us get these droll events over with. It's not like we can ritualistically disembowel a human anymore for fun.”

When her eyes widened and she gasped, he let out a loud guffaw echoed by his tittering following. 

“Oh, Emma. Do calm down, we never did that at political events.” When Emma let out an indignant sniff, and whirled to turn away from him, she heard his snide reply call from behind her. “That was only on the solstices, darling.” More laughs came from behind her. 

Stomping away, Emma retreated to a window to get away from the growing din of the excited crowd. She gazed out a window, waiting for the Goblins to appear at the castle gates. The sound of a throat clearing caught her attention, and she turned to look at a scaled man, green and gold mottled pale skin, topped with a shaggy head of brown hair mixed with eagle feathers. The Goblin, or half Goblin, had one brown eye and one reptilian gold, his teeth and nails sharp. Emma stood taller. 

“I'm so sorry, good sir. I was unaware the Goblins had arrived and I beg pardon.” Emma curtsied, bending low. The man chuckled throatily. 

“You must be Princess Emma. Your beauty becomes you, a truly beautiful woman and Fae." Emma blushed, the compliment so direct and forward, but within convention. The Goblin was well mannered, and it caught her unaware. 

"I am, yes." Raising her head, she gave her hand for him to kiss, surprised by the delicate way he held it. His palms were a mix of soft and scaled smoothness, a long claw scraping along her wrist sending a chill across her skin. Emma pulled away harshly, his eyes narrowing in a way that made her feel increasingly uncomfortable. "Who do I have the pleasure of addressing, with and without such formality?" 

"I am Prince Nil of the Goblins, it is my pleasure to see you ripe. I have heard that we are both kindred spirits who push at formality and it's bindings. Is this true, beautiful one?” He gave a small bow, his words and the way he leered made Emma's skin crawl. His tongue flicked out, long and shinily wet, unmistakably forked as he licked his lips with not only far too much suggestion and luridness. Emma took a step back in spite of herself. 

“I'd have you remember yourself, my Prince. It is… It is unbecoming for me to listen to or respond to such lewd language even given as a token of flattery. I beg of you to be less coarse.” Focusing with all she could muster of Regina's teachings, she glared pure ice. 

“Ah, but it is me who must beg in your court.” He pinned her to the glass, his breath hot against her skin. Dragging a nail down from her ear to her neck, he grinned lavisciously. “In my own kingdom, I would not. I'd have you without treatise, without meetings, without conversations over diplomacy. Goblins take what they want. Formality has no place in true law.” 

“Luckily for the both of us then, that I have a voice here to say no. I would keep my diplomacy and any other manner of dignity.” Emma ducked out from under his arm, eyes steely. “Good day, Pri-”

He snarled, harshly pulling her arm and yanking it with violent force. Emma let out a yelp but his hand clapped on her mouth as he pulled her head back by her hair. 

“You do not dismiss me, you pompous Fae wench. I dismiss you. You are beneath me, a tool for a greater cause. I dismiss you, and in the underground, bitches like you have no voice." She bit at his hand, and the hiss that escaped his serpent mouth not in pain but something darker. Emma struggled, but his long fingers pushed against her tongue sharply, the sharp movements making her gag. "You are such a prize, my golden treasure, I will have you as mine."

Nil's breath was hot on her neck, withdrawing his fingers alshe took a gasp of air as he wiped them on her bodice, groping there, her embarrassment and rage at his lewdness finally snapping her out of surprise. 

"Let go of me, you weasel swallowing, ill mannered, swine tongued -" Emma punched and kicked, his hand falling from her hair as she pushed Nil away. He caught her arm in mid blow, twisting to spin her into him, his front against her back so that she had to feel his body. He smelled like mildew, soil, garlic, and Emma gagged again. 

The prince chuckled at her reaction, rubbing against her in a rolling motion that pushed him against her in ways left for a marriage bed. "We take them, just like we take our women, and that goes without questioning. Remember that Princess. I have a feeling you'll find it ever so important in your formalities .”

All etiquette fled her mind as she fought, trying to get away from the nightmarish creature. With an ungrateful twist, he wrenched her back further, grinding his pelvis against her lewdly before throwing her to the ground. Emma hissed up at his face, but Ruby and Graham interrupted them as the Goblin prince turned away, happily striding back to the party. Ruby ran to Emma's side, immediately worried. 

“Emma, are you alright?” Ruby whispered, and Graham looked her over before glaring in the direction of the Goblin. 

“Emma, did he -” Graham started, but Emma pushed herself up and shook her head with her best regal smile. 

“I'm fine. Go back to the party, I'll speak with my parents about this. Don't worry, and no mention of this, it'll be fine.” Emma watched the two exchange worried glances, but they bowed and made their way back to the party with a few quick looks back. Emma let her face fall, chewing her lip. So much for everything going smoothly. 

Hurrying to talk to her parents, she could hear their raised voices from the council chambers far before she entered, the council in place early by a quarter hour at least. Something was very wrong as a heated discussion was taking place. 

“Absolutely not, Gold. We haven't considered it for various reasons, and feel maybe in the next couple centuries -”

“You're acting as if it will be a choice when it's clearly a demonstration of unity, strength, and power, bringing the realms together finally -”

An Elf spoke, “If that is the case, all kingdoms and realms should have claim, and a chance to give their dowry, not just you,” she cleaned her fingernails, bored. “Although it is a beneficial union.”

“My daughter has a choice in this!” her father hissed, and a few nobles laughed before realizing that it was not a joke. “She is a grown woman, and has made it clear she is not ready for -”

“I'm not ready for what?” Emma said, fury set in her resolved face. She walked towards her empty seat, her mother looking at her warningly, and her father looking ashamed and apologetic. “I believe that at last time I checked, I did have my own voice,” shooting a perfunctory glare at those who had laughed, she continued, “and I definitely have the power of choice.”

Her father sighed and started to speak before the Goblin cut him off, his voice registering as the man her father had called Gold. Rumplestiltskin Gold of the Gold bloodline, King of the Goblins. 

“Princess Emma, my son and I have requested your hand in marriage to unite our kingdoms.” He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes and looked unnatural on his face. Emma stared at him, the taste of unsaid truths pouring off of him. This was not an ally. Something was wrong. “My son is taken with you, and begs of me to modernize. We -”

“Your son accosted me earlier, Your Majesty.” Gasps went around the table, the nobles shifting uncomfortably. Emma heard a dulled bang from far off, but ignored her parents exchange of looks. “And I am not some trophy to be won or pet to be caged. I am afraid that I will be declining your offer, even with the well deserved belief of modernization raised. I may be an outspoken critic of the way we go about our traditions, laws, and rituals, but I am also an outspoken critic of throwing them and decency out the window.”

“Well.” The scaled man slumped his shoulders and looked down, greasy strands of his stringy hair covering his face. “That is bad news then. I'm sorry to hear it.”

Snow moved subtly and slowly in Emma's peripheral as her father tensed. The Goblin King began to laugh, a strange giggling thing that shook his shoulders. Emma took a step back as he looked up, eyes full of impish glee and a true, sharp toothed smile on his face. 

“I thought we might be able to do things the easy way, Dearie.” He cocked his head with that too large reptilian grin, and chaos rained down on the room. Powder exploded in different shades, guards leapt up while magic shot past from hands, wands, staves and who knew what else. Emma was transfixed until her mother yanked her through a wall panel and into a dark corridor. 

“Mom, what -”

“Emma, hush. Listen, we're under attack and I… They're targeting you, alright? It isn't safe for us here. It's not safe for you.” Pushing open a loose tile, they dropped into a small closet as Snow raised a finger to her lips. Moving the tile back into place, she slid another panel open revealing more stairs that they used in haste. Catching their breath, Snow caressed Emma's cheek. “I need you to be braver than you've ever been, and more cunning than ever before. Your life depends on it; everyone's lives depend on it.” 

They moved through the walls, her mother sometimes stopping to peer through a portrait as Goblins flooded the palace, iron weapons in hand. Other times her mother would open a passage for them to run through into another path, full of winding tunnels, spiraling staircases, and peepholes Emma had never known about, circling deep into the castle's depths. 

They eventually reached a latched door that dropped into a crawlspace, both dropping down before coming up to stand in a windowless room the size of a larder. A small box rested on a lone shelf, and The Queen held it gingerly. Opening the lid, she pulled out a silver chain with a jagged piece of steel at its end, putting it over Emma's head where it lay coolly against her warm skin. Emma examined it carefully, noting the pointed end looked like either a sword tip or an arrowhead. 

“Mom, What is this? Where are we going -”

“There's so much I don't have time to explain, and so much we tried to protect you from, Emma. I regret it now, but we don't have time to get into that either.” Her mother was crying, digging at the tiles on the floor that revealed a deep, dark, stairwell into rock hewn walls. “That's a piece of an ancient blade, the Vorpal blade, used to control the Darkness that tried to destroy everything in all worlds. It wanted, no, wants to cover everything in shadow, in pitch, and your father and I destroyed the blade with our love… and you. You're the purest light this world has ever known. With this shard, the Darkness cannot hurt you. We’ve kept you away from everything to keep it so, and now you are the only one who can fix what we couldn't.”

“I don't understand, what do I need to fix? What do I have to do?” Emma whispered. Her mother looked at her pleadingly as the wall in front of them began to shake. 

“The Darkness had taken a vessel, and we… We decided that it deserved a chance, just like the Goblins. Your father and I tried, but it… He… He can't be redeemed, he can't see beyond his revenge. He's too dangerous, too dangerous to ever let out, until now. You have to seek his help, and not fall for his tricks, his offered deals, or his diversions, and then destroy him. You were born to destroy the Darkness and save us.”

The wall cracked, splintering. Her mother kissed her forehead and guided her down the stairs in front of her, pushing Emma into the murk of what lay below. 

“I still don't know what -”

“I'm sorry, Emma. You are so strong, and so powerful. We are so proud of you, and believe in you. You are our daughter, our goodness, and love, and everything we've ever dreamed of you being. Go. Go and be safe.”

Letting go of Emma and pushing the tiles back in place, Emma called for her mother but stopped when she heard the outer wall splinter as her mother screamed. 

“Snow… I tried -” Her father's voice, ending in a gurgling wet rasp. 

“Quiet now, King David. Wouldn't want me to cut out your charming larynx in front of your wife, all because you were trying to play hero.” Gold’s voice, laughter mixing with his son's who was somewhere nearby. 

“Don't hurt him. Please. You have our willingness to comply with whatever demands you make,” Snow said calmly. “I just ask you to please, let my husband and daughter go.”

“Your daughter? She's with you, you had her with you -”

“We lost each other when we came across some guards,” Snow raised her voice, convincingly selling the tale of her missing daughter. “She was supposed to hide. I told her to hide, and I would -”

“My concern involves finding your daughter, and the missing piece of the Vorpal blade I have in my possession. Find the princess. I want a true unification of the realms to begin as soon as possible, and everyone will suffer until I get my way,” Gold seethed. Emma held her breath as she heard footsteps move away. Quietly, she moved down the dark stairs into the damp underbelly of the caves to see what awaited her below her home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, kudos, subscribe, or bookmark, and say hello on tumblr!
> 
> I am praying for receptive feedback on this, because once it gets going... It goes.


	3. Who's there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sneak peek. The chapter in full will be up tomorrow in the afternoon.


	4. ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two begins.

The stairs were uneven, wet, and somewhat mossy under her slippered feet, the scramble downward unending. Under the muted light of a conjured will-o-the-wisp lantern, she stumbled down, the temperature dropping as the bowels of the cave below swallowed her in its vastness. Sometimes the wall broke free on one side, and she could see into the abyss of a chamber, casting a light as far as she could only to see it fall far out of sight without ever hitting a cave floor.

She gave up counting stairs in the upper thousands, slippers sodden as her toes bitterly complained of chill. Time passed without measure, but long after her lean legs had just begun to feel sore, Emma found herself in a dimly lit antechamber, crystal pillars giving off a dull glow at its entrance while the far end remained blanketed in shadow. She moved further into the murk, seeking more stairs, prepared like Theseus to encounter the purported monster of this labyrinth.

In the darkness, she caught a flash of her flame reflecting off leather, a hand wearing several rings twitching in the dim light.

”Hello?” she called, opening her palm to expand the blue light of the wisp. “Who’s there?”

The blue light cast an eerie glow on the iron bars built into the cave, lighting upon the sparkle of quartz embedded in the stone walls. She leaned into the dripping cell, trying to see the creature that lurked just out of her sight. Searing heat lit in her forearm as she accidentally touched the iron, hissing in pain.

”Careful, Princess,” a voice said drolly. “Wouldn’t want to burn such lovely skin.”

She threw the light high toward the chamber's ceiling for clarity, conjuring another in her hand as her eyes widened. There in the corner sat a man, dark haired and pale skinned, with sharp angles of shadow playing across a face that was clearly Fae. He looked up, shaggy hair, grown out in an older style sticking to his forehead. He was unshaven and although grime covered his cheeks, his steely blue eyes showed an alert edge that frightened her.

“Who…” Emma straightened her back and tried to hide her gulp. “Who are you?”

He laughed darkly, and flicked his hand to extinguish the wisp. It sighed as it sputtered out, and Emma frantically tried to conjure another. She peered into the darkness again, trying to find his silhouette, her light still dim from its poor summons.

He was suddenly in front of her, stepping into the light cast from her hand, smirking. He stood taller than her, his broad shoulders and muscles not hidden by an out-of-style laced shirt and leather breeches. At one time, there may have been a cravat, but now his neck was bare and dark hair glinted blue in the light with what looked like a waistcoat laying rumpled in a corner. She caught his eye and his eyebrow cocked up, the smirk on his face widening.

“I’m Killian. Killian Jones.” With another flick of his wrist he extinguished the wisp in her palm, and Emma cursed, summoning another with shaking hands as he laughed at her. 

When a new blue flame danced in her hand, Emma saw him walking back to the corner where he’d originally sat. Squinting her eyes, she followed his form as he relaxed back against the wall. Through the dim light of the cell, she could see how bare it was, aside from a few books, a chamber pot, and a straw cot that looked mostly unused. The cell was smoothed, all edges almost melted away. He had nothing to end his own life with.

They were by no means fully immortal. Emma had heard tell of Fae crushed, or wounded by iron swords. The elements were never feared; being friends with the air, the sea, the earth, and even the flame meant that they had no worry of death by them. Immortality only meant they would stay in their youthful form. Even a hard press against the iron would only leave painful burns that healed before death. What had happened to him? Why was he here, rotting away in the rarely used dungeons, in this cell purposefully hidden with such care? 

“How do you know who I am?” she asked, tentatively stepping closer to the bars again. “Why are you here?”

His laugh echoed off the walls, surrounding her, making her shiver as if she was chilled to ice.

“I know many, many things, Princess.” He held the ‘s’ longer, almost snake like, and she felt her chest constrict slightly. He turned over his shoulder, eyes reflecting the blue of the wisp and making them look more unearthly. “I’m here because I once tried to kill your family… and you.”

“You're… You're the Dark One?” Emma looked him over again, confusion written on her face as she chewed her lip. “That can't be right, you're my age and -”

“Simply held in a sort of stasis, darling. Immortal and cursed to serve a never-ending sentence rotting down here, while the royal family rules with an iron fist,” he hissed, sneering at her. Darkness flared behind him, shadows moving in snake-like sinews. Emma tried to remain brave, but felt herself tremble at his vitriol. His temper cooled as quickly as it had flared, almost as if he was a different person. “To what do I owe the displeasure of your visit anyway? You weren't expecting to find me, I'm guessing?”

“I…” Thinking on what even to say, Emma watched the eyes of a predator survey her, trying not to focus on the way he captured his bottom lip between his teeth or the crazy gleam in his pupils. He looked feral, and it unsettled her. Taking a deep breath, she tucked into the familiarity of decorum. “I have been tasked with partnering with you to help defeat a threat, a siege currently taking place above us.”

Killian Jones blinked twice, and then laughed. 

Emma had never heard anything like it: the dangerous edge of a low growled chuckle, like the rumble of thunder as lightning lit up a darkened hollow. It was jarring, madness right in front of her eyes on display. 

“Well. Aren't you a daring lass. What's in it for me, if I should help you?” he asked, and stepped forward, laying his palms on the bars and watching with depraved amusement as his flesh peeled away. 

“Oh, well -”

“You didn't think I would do anything for you or your family without payment, did you, Princess?” Her cheeks reddened and he laughed maniacally.

“Honor, you'd -”

“What use do I have for bloody honor?” he interrupted, darkness flaring around them as he yelled, the sound echoing through the stone chambers. 

“Gold, and jewels -”

“You think money can buy me to save the people who -” 

Emma's heart raced, and she shouted over his voice. “A deal! A deal. My parents’ freedom for your own.”

Silence fell in the dungeon, the only sound the low drips of water. The Dark One looked at her incredulously, mouth agape. 

“You're… You're not joking.” 

Returning his own shocked whisper, Emma took a step forward. “I'm not. We have a mutual alliance in each other, because of this.”

Pulling the shard out of her dress, he gritted out a sound of longing. 

“I'll take the deal. Set me free and you will have your parents’ freedom in return.” He looked at her hungrily, his eyes zeroed in on the silver chain around her neck. 

“No funny business. If you don't free my parents the deal is off, alright?” Emma shot him a look, and he reached his hand through the iron bars for her to seal their accord with. 

“Yes, yes. Now free me!” he breathed excitedly, and Emma shuddered. 

Placing her hand in his, she shook. The bars shimmered, falling away like silver feathers that disappeared into nothingness. At first, he stood as stunned as she did, his mouth open slightly and eyes wide. Emma watched as a smile crept slowly over his face, blackness devouring everything around her, choking her like smoke, the world shifting as if she was thrown into a night sky absent of stars. 

Emma landed in a graceless heap, hearing sounds of shock from around her as she picked herself up to look around. The man named Killian - or rather, the Dark One, for now she could see the Darkness in its full and horrifying glory as it swirled around him - stood slightly in front of her, his long coat, cravat, and suit clean once more. His beard was not gone but trimmed short, rakish, and his hair was left shaggy in a long style that fell over his kohl rimmed eyes. He looked mad, his smile a half snarl under blown pupils that sparked with insanity. 

The Goblin King and Prince who stood before them did not seem perturbed by his crazed visage, simply happily surprised. 

“I've brought your bride as a wedding gift, My Lord,” the Dark One called out like he was presenting some trinket, wrenching Emma forward. She shook her head and tried to protest, but he stared at her with amusement. Cocking his head and clicking his tongue, he spoke before she could say a word. “Don't worry, love. In exchange for a few favors, you can marry this royal annoyance today.”

“We had an accord you odious, foul, toad's ass! You promised -”

“Ah, darling.” Turning slightly, he raised a finger and touched her nose in a taunt. “That's why you always check the fine print.” The Dark One grinned, and the Goblins surrounding them laughed. 

“Dark One! Good to see you again at last. What are your demands for my son's bride to be?” Gold smiled, steepling his long fingers. 

“I would like the King and Queen of the United Realms freed, a pardon from the new regime, and the dagger and its shard in return for the princess. I'd also like the return and freedom of the person you took from me.” 

“You ask a lot, Dark One. I say again, this is for my son's bride. I'm afraid that your help will be needed for my sovereignty. The dagger is off limits, so ask once more.” Nil shifted uneasily at his father's words while the Goblin King’s reptilian grin grew larger, as if he was laughing at a joke the Dark One had yet to catch. 

“His bride… she isn't for you?” The Dark One looked apprehensive. “What happened to Mil-”

“Ah yes. Ever so perceptive, dearie.” Gold approached them, waving the dagger in his hands. “My first wife. You thought she might have escaped, yes? Thought maybe she might be in hiding? I'm afraid that while your subsequent… descent into the Darkness, as it were, did cause her some distress, we were able to come to our own arrangements after she realized that you were never to return for her. Not that she could have escaped anyway, as many times as she tried until she found herself with child. She bore me Nil, then died. I've taken another wife since, so this will be Nil’s chance at being granted a -”

Killian’s face was contorted in rage, as if Gold had smacked him. Emma could see his indignation and disbelief. She backed away and heard her mother's soft voice, finding Snow holding her father's head as he lay unconscious in her lap. He was still bleeding slightly, though much of it had been smeared from his scalp, ears, and lips; a wound on his side was wrapped tightly with strips of petticoat. 

Crawling to them, Emma tried to heal them, but her magic sputtered. Snow stilled her trembling hands, her pale face swollen and bruised under her once perfectly coiffed hair. Emma had never seen her parents look so haggard. 

“They've put up some sort of magic dampener. It won't work, Emma.” Snow brushed her fingers through David's hair, watching his brows furrow. 

“I'm so sorry Mom, I -”

“It's alright. It's going to be okay, Emma. We will fight to get you safe, I promise.” Snow set her jaw in determination. “I'll die before -”

“No, no, Mom, no, don't say that -” 

A crash sounded from the Dark One, his tone filled with incredulous hatred. “I don't believe you, I don't believe she's gone. She isn't - she isn't gone, she can't be! This is another bloody trick -”

“Trade me your loyalty and the princess for her then, if you believe your ‘twue wove’ lives. Prove your devotion.”

“The dagger, Milah, the King and Queen’s freedom, and my freedom for her, or nothing!” the Dark One screamed. 

“Faaaaaather,” Nil whined. Gold looked annoyed, and sighed. 

“Fine. Fine! Here's your precious Milah.” With a wave of his hand, a crystal casket appeared with a crash near the Dark One. Killian opened the frosted glass cover to look inside, his tense shoulders trembling, and let out an anguished cry as he stumbled to hold the woman's pale body inside.

While listening to the Dark One’s torment at finding his lost love dead, Emma realized that there were things she knew without having to know them; facts of how the world worked around her presence. 

The earth beneath her feet spoke in a steady rhythm with her footsteps. Water would always hold her safely in its currents, softly tugging at her curls. The wind carried her like it carried songs, words, and scents to please her fancy. If she climbed high enough in one of her father's beloved trees, the sun's light was unbearably bright; but in that perfect instance of blinding warmth, she lit like a candle.

There were things she'd had to learn the hard way, even in her safe, sheltered, preciously controlled world. Once, as a child, she escaped to the old palace orchard to climb up into a peach tree, eating the ripe fruit greedily and dropping the pits below. When she'd gone to get down, sticky, her slippery fingers had lost their bearings, resulting in her falling backwards until the ground met her back harshly. She had felt the air forced from her body on impact, the whoosh of it leaving her without even a voice. It felt like her lungs had exploded, and when she finally could get breath, she wailed all at once.

Listening to Killian’s cries of agonizing pain as he stroked the woman’s face, she wondered if love was like that, too. 

“So much for your faith, eh? Now accept that you have nothing, accept the fact that you can't escape. I have you, the princess, and the dagger all together, with nowhere for you to run to.” Gold giggled, giving a shrug. “So much for your demands.”

Killian pulled away finally, and Emma could see the fury rolling off his frame, his hands shaking as he pulled a necklace from the dead woman's neck. Snow shifted, laying David's head down with care before pulling Emma up slowly into a crouch. 

The Goblin King was too busy laughing at his clever trick to notice Killian pressing his lips to the locket in his palm or the women’s movements. Emma braced herself in anticipation while Nil looked at her stupidly, opening his mouth to say something. Suddenly, Snow pushed Emma forward and on her feet, throwing her towards the Dark One. Emma stumbled forward, looking back at her mother's face, memorizing the bright tears in Snow’s eyes as she blew a kiss farewell. 

Emma never heard Nil’s words, the thunderous noise throwing people aside all around them as Emma's steps propelled her forward with the shard. Killian had made a portal and was stepping through it when she hurtled into him, throwing them both through the swirling vortex to fall, fall, fall... 

Wind whipped past her, Emma’s dress catching around her sides as the darkness above and below swallowed them. There was no up or down, only midnight and stars surrounding her until her body broke through the mirror surface of what was below, icy shadow swallowing her, pulling her -

She couldn't control the water, or the current, or the air and light; it all fought her grip like something feral as she flailed. 

When she tried to breathe in, her lungs filled with burning starlight, a cold fire that left her vision blurring. This wasn’t to fall, but was to be struck down by an unseen hand of the Gods, like the old texts said had once separated Fae from Fae; taken as an old style sacrifice to protect like in the days before realms, left to burn in elemental fury…

Emma closed her eyes, and let the cold hand take hers to wherever awaited.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It took an explosive amount of magic to rip open a portal, his rage over Milah’s fate all consuming as the Darkness fanned it in glee. He had held out hope for all these years that there must have been a mistake; had dreamed of a reunion instead of clawing at the dark heart on his shoulder, the charcoal ash color mocking him. Her name had never changed in its script, never faded, and he had traced it through the worst of doubts. Holding Milah, seeing her as a corpse with no vibrancy, seeing her son in his monstrous glory - it was a crisis of faith that weighed him down while he plummeted. Her locket was clutched tightly in his hand, gripped like a lifeline. 

_You knew she was dead; you knew there was no hope and that she was dead. You knew and you bargained like the fool you are, the fool you have always been. You killed her, and you know it; you knew it before this, but you do so love getting what you fight for -_

It mocked him as he fell through a clear night sky and hurtled towards the lake below. In the corner of his eye, he saw a flutter of white, an unwelcome guest in his misery: the princess, dress and hair wild in the rushing wind, her skirts like the chapel paintings of angels as they swirled. He saw her hit the water below a moment before his own body crashed through the still surface, kicking hard against the current to take a breath of the chilled air. The water and night resisted his control at first, the elements unused to a master for so long. With finesse he manipulated the cold weight trying to pull him down, his movement fluid with no resistance. The princess didn’t appear or rise, and he dove back below without trouble or need for air, pulling her limp body towards the shore with ease. 

For a brief moment, Killian thought she was dead. Her skin was pale and her lips were turning from pink to blue. He could take the dagger piece and be done with this, leaving her to follow the inevitable fate of anyone who crossed his path. Then again, the blasted thing was probably warded. If he squinted, he could see the slight bit of sparkling light magic shielding it. If it was shielded, the magic would probably tear him to pieces within moments. 

Reaching for the chain, the Darkness and him together, the smallest voice inside of him protested adding another name to the long list of those dead. Reaching slowly to where the shard had nestled in the hollow of her collarbone, her magic crackled with electricity like intensity. Definitely some ward. 

_Tick tock, Dearie. _

There would be time to test it later. He reluctantly pressed a few times on her chest instead, to see if there was still life. When she made no move, he tried again more forcefully, still with no success. 

The Darkness bit and writhed under his skin in its impatience. Killian tried to comfort it and soothe the Darkness - _the princess was worth so much more alive, she needed to be alive_ \- but her heart barely fluttered under his prodding. The Darkness growled with agreement, but in its own way sought to continue its torment of its host.

_It’s not working. You’ll have to make a decision on whether you want to do something other than those chest compressions pretty soon… We can handle pain, we can handle being ripped apart or put back together, but magic like this? If she dies the shard most likely will too. Tick tock._

Killian had to agree, even though its hateful cackle and his own derision only made his frustration grow. He pushed her wet hair aside, pinched gently on her nose, and pressed his lips against hers with a breath. 

Emma sputtered almost immediately, turning her head to the side and coughing up water violently. There was a gentle sigh of relief inside his mind, so quiet he was sure he’d imagined it. The Darkness had not noticed or acknowledged it. Instead it quieted, a fact which surprised him slightly. She fluttered her eyes open, and stared up at him, sucking in deep breaths. 

“What?” Emma coughed, shivering.

“We’re in the old homeland.” He pointed to the water where chunks of broken ice floated lazily. “Things have moved since I was last here. That used to be much warmer, and the river's current would immediately obey with magic.” 

“Where?” she whispered incredulously. He looked at her with seething annoyance. 

“The old lands. You know, the human world? Where we were before your parents decided on peace and love with a side of segregation?” His irritation seeped into his tone, and she scooted back away from him.

“You tried to use me to broker a deal, and we aren't even in the United Realms anymore? Why would you bring us here, of all places? You lying pig - Ugh! And you kissed me!” She scrubbed at her lips in disgust with the back of her hand, glaring at him. His anger came roaring back.

“I most certainly did not kiss you, I saved your royal arse! It isn’t my fault your deal was to save your parents, you vain, spoiled, presumptuous brat -”

“Take me back!” she screamed at him, throwing a fistfull of mud, rocks, and leaves from the shore as she stood. “Take me back this instant! I want no part in whatever working with you entails you bastard son of a sow -”

“I saved your bloody life! Twice now even, in the last hour!” he growled, as she continued to pelt him with whatever she could get her hands on. “You should be thanking me you stubborn -”

Emma hit him hard with what he assumed to be a tree branch, his patience now gone. When she came back to hit him again, he caught the branch, pulling her down in the slick mud of the riverbank as she protested, covering her mouth with his hand and pinning her. Her eyes were wide, silvered green in the moonlight, fear keeping her paralyzed beneath him.

“Right. Here’s your choices. Choice one: I can help you get your parents free of the Goblin scourge we both are clearly enemies with, help you navigate to allies if you have any, all in exchange for that blasted bloody shard holding my freedom around your neck." Emma squirmed slightly and he pushed harder against her, catching her leg with his own to allow no movement. 

"This place’s time moves far differently than your home. What will be a week there, well, it could be years here depending on whatever magic your parents have conjured up. You don’t know a damn thing about this world, but I do. The elements here will be resistant to your magic, but I can help you tame them. Do you understand? Be a good lass, nod your head yes or no.” 

Emma nodded yes under his hold. 

“Good. Second choice. I leave you here, go along my merry way until the Goblins catch you - which they will - and we see each other next at your wedding day when the Goblin King gets you and that shard wrapped together in a pretty little bow. The blade becomes whole again, and I lose the ability to control the Darkness at all. Now, which would you rather choose, hm?” He let go of her mouth and Emma sneered at him. 

“Get off me.” It was hissed, and he felt the Darkness stir even in its muted state inside him. Killian pushed it down, willing patience on it. Pulling himself off of her, he stood and dusted himself off. 

“Your choice, m’lady?” He offered her a hand, which she refused, standing on her own even with her compromised balance. 

“You’ll help me? The enemy of my enemy and all of that?”

“There’s that proper breeding and decorum I expected from a Highborn!” Killian spat sarcastically. “I’m glad you can comprehend something so simple. Yes, I’ll help you.”

"Why keep me alive? Why save me at all?" He watched her search his face for any answer. Her eyes lit when she realized his greatest weakness was the same as his price: The Dark One was controlled by the shard, and as long as Emma had possession of the piece... "You can't hurt me."

"The Vorpal blade commands me to do no harm to anyone who holds it, even in pieces. I cannot kill what controls me, for it compels me, as I call it Master. I cannot take what controls me from my Master, it must be given." Intoning the words through gritted teeth, he closed his eyes to drown out the Darkness screeching in frustration, trying to rip him apart from the inside. The Darkness salivated at the thought of bloodshed, wishing it could end her life in a single snap, images of Navy ships burning on dark water intertwined with the greasy voice of a viper. 

_It would be so easy, and we'd revel in the destruction. We’d sit on a black throne in a dark castle, you could have everything -_

“Fine. Choice one.” Emma's voice cut through the noise, Killian’s ears ringing as the Darkness settled. 

He turned from her, and nodded his head in a direction. “This way then- Ow!”

She hit him a few more times with the tree branch before chucking it aside. 

“Don’t ever, and I mean ever, touch me like that again, or I will gut you like a codfish,” Emma hissed, eyes slitted. “And never in your life expect to kiss me again - that was most definitely a one time thing, buddy.” She stalked off in the direction he pointed. The Darkness swirled back to life, smoke filling his veins. 

_Stubborn wench deserves what we'll do. Just bide your time and hatred - we'll be free soon, free to wreak havoc and seek revenge. _

Killian hummed in a half hearted agreement, surprised to feel challenged by the pluck the woman had. 

The sky was dark and the starlight helped very little as she stumbled through the forest. Killian watched from behind her with a low chuckle, and the Darkness mused at how it had lost its footing so easily in its host. It wasn't of real consequence. The foolish girl had never been in this world, and even if it was completely different, there were truths that were well known.

“If it gives you that much trouble, Princess, light a guide for yourself or a palm lantern. Even a will-o-the-wisp.” 

“You're not,” Emma huffed in exertion, snapping back a branch, “making much use of anything but that mouth of yours. Why don't you do it?”

Annoyance filled his lungs with the gritted breath he took. That wasn't expected. Killian wanted her tired, her magic completely expended, with no hope of fighting to keep the shard around her neck as long as he could withstand the ward's pain. The princess needed to do magic to do that, to exhaust the limited supply that this world had. He tried a different tactic: pushing her to annoyance. 

“Ah, but we both know that you don't want me to use my mouth in other ways -”

“Could you not?” Emma made a disgusted noise, and summoned a blue flame in her palm. It didn't drain her as much as he needed, to his overwhelming frustration. The Darkness cursed. 

“Fine. We need to get somewhere safe regardless, and you're freezing. Help me with my magic, I know a safe place.” If all went well, he could potentially leave the wench outside of town and charm someone to steal the Dagger piece for him. It would have to be outside of town though. Motioning her over to him, he positioned them facing a certain way, whispering what sounded like a transportation spell. 

Emma looked at him quizzically, but approached, any wariness replaced by the small beginnings of trust. She was a foolish thing. If he could feel pity, he might have been sympathetic towards her leap of faith. 

Taking her hand and putting it reluctantly in his, Killian whispered words, taking the magic he needed as smoke poured around them. She had more than he ever expected, he realized, an overflowing basin of light that swept in tendrils around their touch. It filled him with heat and warmth, thawing ice away, his body unable to stop its pull as it sent the Darkness skittering into a deep part of him. Light spilled into his veins with a power deliciously strong but somehow fluidly soft.

The ground was leaf litter and river clay, until it wasn't - At first Killian thought his calculation was off, but the swell of power as the air crackled was enough to know the truth. He had not accounted for her power. In an instant they were not just in the town, or near the house as intended. Instead, they were in a flour coated kitchen as if it hadn't changed through the whole stretch of his captivity as Emma wobbled forward from the jump. 

“Bloody hell,” he whispered, and Emma held her head, unsteady and confused. Killian let go of her, noticing how delicate her wrist was, the honeyed floral smell of her magic in the air over the scent of bread, vanilla, and sugar making him sway for a moment as well. He felt alive; the view from his cell had never been enough, but now that he was here, reunited with his - 

Emma's quiet voice broke into his thoughts, her swaying getting worse. “I feel so…”

“I forgot, magic here wanes. You’ll have to use it sparingly until the full moon.” Killian tried to hide his glee at her weakness, but when she stumbled and fell against him, he was shocked to feel her magic still swirling inside of her. The Darkness gave an involuntary shudder. 

_This is a… This is a trick, a fluke. She has only been in this realm for minutes, her power will weaken and fade soon enough. _

“When, tomorrow?” Emma asked, exhaustion heavy in her tone.

Killian shook his head. “A full moon here takes time to come back.” 

Emma tried to stand, this time falling back hard into his arms. 

“Whoa, easy there, Princess. Easy, easy, love.” Emma felt his arms around her, a deep tiredness settling in her body. His embrace was strong on the wooden floor where they stood, and Emma felt dizzy when the smell of apple pie hit her hard on top of the room spinning. 

“Killian, I… Did I…?” Her mouth was beginning to feel full of sand and straw, her tongue too big, her tiredness unrelenting. “Safe?”

He nodded, and Emma tried to focus on his face, the haze of her fatigue causing him to look younger, an imagined phantom of his brows knit in worry for her. “Yes, we're safe. You're safe,” he soothed. 

The hallucination made him look like a different person, the worry on his face so clearly caring and empathetic. She reached up to touch his shoulder and felt the sharp zap of her magic meeting an angry force, like a shaken wasp’s nest, the buzz causing her to yelp. 

A woman burst in, white hair in disarray under a knit sleep cap. She was wielding a baseball bat in one hand, propped on her shoulder, while the other hand crackled with icy magic. Both her magic and the bat fell away when she saw the two intruders. 

“Killian! You're here, you're free, oh Killian, what has it made you do? Why… why are you here? Did you kill her?” she asked, horrified. 

“Nothing Ingrid, the lass fainted from using magic,” Emma felt him shift her as she laid her head in the crook of his neck. In her delirium, she noted that he smelled wonderful under the smell of forest. “I know that you must think the worst, but I need help. We need help -”

Emma tried to listen to their blurred voices, but it was too much and she was too weak. Opening her eyes she gazed up, letting her head flop back as her muscles gave way. Killian’s expression was back with no empathy in sight, dark and impassive, the shadowed scowl the last thing she saw as she fell into unconsciousness. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The Darkness squirmed under its vessel's skin, demanding and impatient now that the royal brat lay still in a bed under a thick quilted comforter. It was all it could do to get Ingrid to stop her incessant nagging and simpering over their arrival, to believe the tale of his freedom and the alliance the princess had forged in good faith. 

Ingrid was too shrewd and calculating in her own right, and the Darkness hated her for it. She was off limits to the Darkness completely, which it hated, and with the addition of the strange magic that the princess radiated, it was difficult to maintain control. 

“So you're freed, and you come here with Snow Margueryte's - Er, Queen Snow’s daughter? And you truly thought I would not ask questions or have concerns about your intentions? Killian, you have learned nothing from your exile; don't think I cannot see this Darkness controlling you.” 

“If the Darkness controlled me, you would be dead, Ingrid,” its host replied simply. It was true, the Darkness mused. As long as it had inhabited this man, it was unable to exact punishment on the older woman. She was off limits, no matter how annoying.

_All family, for as long as we coexist. I will never again harm them._

“How long will you be here?” Ingrid asked, and its host sighed. “Have you brought danger down upon the last remnants of your family? You were not to come without warning.”

“Time there is slowed once more. I don't know, and I cannot say for certain that we bring danger, but I suspect we do. The princess is being pursued in marriage. I had nowhere else to go, no time to give warning, and she… I need her cooperation if I'm to maintain my freedom.”

“I'm glad you're here, then. I'm glad you are safe, that both of you are. I'm not glad that buzzing maniac still inhabits you, and I stand by that. You're being watched, Killian. I won't let you hurt the girls, or this princess.” Ingrid stood, as tall and noble as she had been as a duchess. “I have to sleep to open the bakery in time, but remember your brother's words: ‘In this home, you are not what they think you are.’”

“Fine,” he whispered solemnly. Here Ingrid wasn't Fae nobility, he wasn't the Dark One, and the princess was just a woman. Liam had been just a man, sitting at the table with them and laughing over toast. The memory made him hurt, and Killian felt the Darkness push at that pain like a finger in a wound. 

Emma slept soundly as Killian sat on the edge of the mattress. She barely moved except to burrow further into the quilted blankets she had wrapped around herself. Her body was so still, and his temptation was goaded by the pulsing voice that told him to take the shard, make sure it could not be taken. Silky pitch and charcoal whispers that refused to be ignored. 

Killian reached the hollow of her throat, fingers gently trying to pull the blade’s tip. The shock that exploded when he gripped the steel sent him to the floor, every muscle taut, then released in burning pain. The Darkness ripped at itself, tearing at the searing sensations that clawed at it, fighting to survive the flames that erupted through its vessel. The bloody wench didn't even stir as its host fell back twitching. 

The damned piece of blade was enchanted with her parent's ruddy love far too strongly. The Darkness vibrated with rage, formulating new plans and strategies. They would have to keep the brat alive, the shard now tied to her heart, the embodiment of the True Love that bound it. Spitting and cursing, it needled under the flesh of its host until he returned to consciousness with a snarl. 

For now, they would wait. The shard would be theirs eventually. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Much more to come.  
Much much more. 
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at Courtorderedcake.


	5. iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sick today, due to a pharmacy error that resulted in medication being a much lower dosage than I needed. I apologize for the delay.

Emma woke up to bright spring sun and the smell of baking bread all around her. She could hear the sound of laughter and voices coming from downstairs; it was rather disconcerting, considering the circumstances of their arrival. Looking at her state of dress, she was glad to discover something had been put out for her. She slipped out of her muddy shift, folding the now stiff fabric as small as she could. The clothing laid out was bizarre; a woolen tunic split down the front with large buttons in a dark shade of magenta, and a soft blue dress made of several fabrics she couldn’t place. Emma felt exposed without the proper undergarments, but in this case she was more happy that she had clothes than she was worried. She hoped whoever had provided them could arrange a bath to be drawn later. When no servants arrived to bring her a tray or announce breakfast, Emma shrugged it off; not all households had servants in them. 

Heading down the stairs and vaguely remembering the layout from the night before, she was brought to a landing where a glass door led to a storefront and more stairs led down to a living space. Nearing the bottom she heard a man’s low laugh. Turning the corner, she was shocked to see Killian smiling slightly, laughing at something one of the women across from him was saying. A woman with white-blonde hair in a braid sat next to an auburn haired woman. They were obviously related, sharing the same eyes and nose, but the auburn haired woman had her hair arranged in a braided crown and looked significantly more carefree. When Killian saw her, his smile faded, his eyes looking down at the cup in front of him. The two women followed his previous line of sight, turning to look at Emma. The blonde scowled, eyes narrowing and face becoming a harsh, icy, mask of anger. Emma took a step back, shocked by her reaction. The auburn haired woman put a hand on the blonde’s shoulder, and smiled grimly at Emma. 

“Good morning.”

Emma let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. “Good morning. I’m sorry to intrude, I’ll just -”

Killian let out a grunt, still looking down at his cup, and the blonde stood to sit next to him. Emma wondered if this was a lover of his, with the way she possessively took his forearm, shooting daggers of ice towards Emma. 

The auburn haired woman watched as the blonde moved away, and then smiled back towards Emma. 

“Come join us for breakfast, please. I’m Anna, and this is my sister Elsa.” She motioned Emma over to sit next to her, as Elsa stiffened. “Ingrid will be over in a minute, she’s just finishing up bread for the day. We open in a bit.” 

“Oh no, I couldn’t -” Emma started, before Ingrid flew in, wearing a blue checkered apron covered in flour. 

“Couldn’t what? Join us for breakfast? Nonsense, Emma, I baked some danishes just for you and Killian.” She motioned Emma over to the seat next to Anna with a smile on her face. Emma sat and Anna offered her another warm smile. The blonde woman sat diagonally to her right, Killian right across from her. “Would you like some coffee or tea, my dear? Maybe some juice?” 

“Tea would be lovely.” Emma felt her body start to loosen, her shoulders growing less tight as Anna and Ingrid started chatting about the weather outside. Ingrid placed a tea service, plates, a pitcher of juice, and a plate of pastries on the table. She rushed away for a moment longer as Anna handed out plates, grabbing a small kettle for Killian. Emma was astonished to see him smile at the woman pleasantly without a hint of arrogance, hatred, or spite. Anna and Ingrid kept the chatter pleasant, even teasing the man in front of her as if he wasn't a murderer. Emma's eyes wandered as she was excluded from the conversation, even with Ingrid and Anna's many attempts to try to include her. The conversation was stilted and awkward without her commentary. 

“Oh!” Emma exclaimed, catching sight of a familiar face in the portraits on the wall as the mood stayed light. She spoke more out of surprise, words coming that she could not bottle even as Anna's eyes flicked to her in distaste. “I recognize him. Captain Liam, right? He looks so happy here! We have a portrait of him up in one of the hallways, in full uniform, looking very serious. I used to talk to him while playing with my dolls or sing to him to make him happy. He - well, my pretend version of him I guess - even gave me advice.”

The room was silent as Emma looked back at the table. Killian’s jaw muscles were so tight, she could see them ticking in time with the clock. Ingrid and Anna were both casting horrified glances at Elsa, who was trembling with a rage that made her previous glares look tame.

“I’m sorry if I said something that -” Emma started, not knowing what had caused the mood to turn hostile.

Killian stood, and left the room without a word, and Elsa trailed behind, casting one last glare at Emma. Emma realized she could see wetness in the woman’s eyes. The room fell silent again, both Ingrid and Anna looking at the doorway the others had left through.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know - I mean, I knew he had passed but -” Emma stammered, trying to make sense of the situation.

Ingrid sighed, sad and tired. She laid her head in her hands. “Liam… Liam was Killian’s brother.” Emma realized too quickly why Killian’s eyes had seemed so familiar, why she felt compelled to trust him against her mother's warning. Her emotions turned to a stone in her stomach, and she sank heavily into her seat. For the first time in many years, she felt a twisting feeling. Shame. Ashamed of the war that took so many nameless brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers from their families in the name of peace between the realms. 

"And Elsa - Elsa and Liam were courting." Anna spoke quietly, almost in a whisper. “They were so happy, he and Elsa. Killian had met a beauty himself and was courting her, but Elsa and Liam…” she paused trailing off, still gazing after her sister. “They were so in love. It was barely a courtship even by today’s standards. They just knew. He gave her a ring, and said he’d be back soon. No one expected the Goblins or the Darkness to…”

Ingrid coughed softly, and Anna looked down at her lap. Emma felt the air change, long swept away sadness and anger emerging from disused corners. Regina had drilled history lessons into her brain about how her parents had married and peace was won. Or so she had thought. The history had been clear, but now it was murky with a new understanding of long past events. 

The Goblins, in a last move of madness, had resorted to blood magic - tearing two brothers from people they cared about without mercy and creating the Darkness they sought, unaware it would choose a vessel like Killian Jones. Unaware of the events that would transpire. 

Milah, stolen away with hundreds of other women of all realms to keep their blood magic strong as they controlled the Darkness against the will of its vessel. 

Liam, lying dead in red-stained waters with his entire armada as destruction rained down in time with barked commands. 

The dagger, broken by the power of her parents’ True Love, taken from the Goblins as the Dark One raged in torment. The last moments of a united council sealing away the Goblins in a contained territory, and Killian in a dark cell for as long as needed. 

Killian, forced for centuries to remember that he had lost everything. Or almost everything, the flicker of hope never quite going out. 

Emma swallowed hard. Everything that her parents had done, everything Emma possessed, everything she was, her entire existence in this world and her own was an attack on the memories that Killian, Elsa, Anna and Ingrid buried, trying to forget. She’d ruined quiet peace with her imagined conversations, as Liam told her stories of the sea, and sang with her in gruff baritone from an imagined place in her mind. After falling into their lives with all the gentleness of a rockslide, how would she fix the impact of what she was, and what she represented? There was no way. Guilt and fear weighed as heavy and new emotions on her shoulders. 

“I know - I know there is nothing I can say or do to make this right,” Emma whispered, “but please let me help you with anything I can?”

Ingrid nodded, a hesitant smile creeping onto her face. “Alright then. Let’s get you a shower and an apron.”

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Working in the bakery was tedious in its methodology and precision, mixing powders, eggs, and milk in large vats that stirred with mechanical innards. It reminded her of alchemy, and took her mind from her fears as she focused. Emma had a new found respect for Granny and any kitchen workers after the first few hours, especially since her clumsiness meant much more work was left to be done. At least she could try the shower again if she became nervous and made a mess; her hands still hadn't stopped trembling from shock and leftover adrenaline. 

“Why did you leave the realms?” Emma asked quietly, digging a scoop into a bowl labeled ‘C. chip cookies’. Scooping out a large portion, Anna all but ran over to stop her and show her the proper amount. 

“They get bigger, they grow in the oven. Gosh, to think you’ve never cooked before.” Anna looked at Emma contemplatively for a moment before laughing gently. “I guess that’s part of it. My sister, Ingrid, and I - well. We come from a long line of Scandinavian Fae, Brownies, Trolls and Ice Folk. We were ladies of the court in the old northern palace for some time. It was located maybe three hundred kilometers from here, up on top of the mountains.” Anna flashed a toothy grin at Ingrid, who was smiling while mixing. “Then the war took our parents, our younger brother Olaf, our Uncle Nemo, our cousins, Liam… It destroyed my friends, destroyed our ancestral home. For me, I needed to stay where my memories were strongest. This was Uncle Nemo’s mill and we had fond memories summering here as well. Auntie, what about you?”

“There isn’t much to say. There was nothing left there for us. The magic was gone, metaphorically and literally. With very little magic, the kingdom falling from the peaks of snowy mountains to the earth, the ice of our towers cracking - we couldn't rebuild without an unlimited supply of power again.” Ingrid shrugged, smoothing out dough in front of her with a rolling pin. She spread a thick brown filling over it with one hand, the other hand rolling it into a complex braid. “After I lost Nemo… This was a way to feel his presence. I feel him here so much, even now. He built our room to look over my mountains, while he could see his harbor. I still struggle looking at the sea. I miss his laugh, and I never thought I'd say it, but I miss his hunger.” Ingrid smiled, her voice wistful while completing several braids with different fillings. Emma could only continue shaping what would be cookies into uneven lumps. 

Anna carried a metal tray past on one shoulder, correcting her scoop size once more before scurrying to the ovens and sliding it inside. “We put a glamor up for humans, so we look as though we're aging and a new generation takes over, but we have been here long enough to watch the town become a city, and the city become a tourist destination. It's something. We have purpose.” Pounding the dough, Anna worked fluidly, unstoppable in her routine as she sped through her tasks in an unending stream of movement. 

Emma huffed in annoyance at her failure, plopping down more cookies on her first tray, glancing back to Ingrid who was now creating heart shaped tartlets, and Anna who weaved lattice over pies in less than a minute. 

“Don’t get discouraged now, Princess!” Anna giggled. “We do this every day. You’ll be making the perfect sized cookies for us in no time.” Her positivity was sweet, considering how especially awful Emma was at every task set before her. 

The work became easier as both women showed her techniques, and Emma cut shapes in pastry dough or kneaded loaves of bread. Kneading was becoming her fast favorite, her hands and occasionally forearm or elbow pushing air out of the round ball, pushing her frustration out as well. It was cathartic - and wonderful. 

When the loaves were beaten into submission, Anna showed her how to make frostings or where they were in the cold box they kept, and this turned fortuitous. Emma was a natural immediately. Icing with delicate brocade or ethereal lace, Ingrid gasped at the cookies she laid out. Stained glass, something Ingrid referred to as “similar to Art Nouveau”, geometric patterns, and stunning jewel tones rested on trays in carefully placed positions. A wedding cake initially gave Emma pause, but she painted it in a tapestry of unicorns and peacocks, the rich, velvety, colors so realistic one could almost feel the loom’s weave. Bright flowers in the miniscule were easy and like home, unlike the designs Ingrid had pointed out in glossy paper picture books, named strange things like 'Tartan', 'Paisley', and 'Plaid'. 

Elsa returned to see a beautiful pearl white and pale blue cake in three tiers, adorned with rock candy in a variety of watercolored hues piled high and topped with a light dusting of sugar. The effect was stunning, mimicking a frozen waterfall cascading over river boulders. 

“Do… Do you like it?” Emma stepped timidly from where she had been standing, watching Elsa take in her work. 

Elsa nodded, but said nothing else as she fled to her room. 

Killian looked in briefly when he returned, but was more interested in the croissant he plucked from the display case with an aloof nod. 

“Enjoying the commoner’s life, Princess?” he smirked, chewing his croissant. “Take care, or you may enjoy it too much and want to stay.” His back was to her, so she gave a slight cough to grab his attention with a frown. Carefully sliding a plate towards him over the case’s counter, Emma crossed her arms and stepped back to lean against the wall, as far from his presence as she could be. 

“I don’t think life on the run and being separated from my family would provide me enjoyment. Ingrid asked if I wanted to make you something. I didn't, but I felt I could not refuse. So, there’s that. Think of it as a thank you.”

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

A tan piece of what possibly was cheesecake sat in front of Killian, covered in a dark brown sauce that dripped off the top of the slice and down the sides. Chuckling lightly, he looked, picked up the spoon, and spun it between his fingers before touching it to his lips. “Is that all your gratitude is worth?"

Emma stared at him with cold hatred. "A jest, love.” He leaned forward with eyes trained on her face, pleased he could feel her annoyance. ”If you’re interested in enjoyment, I’m sure we can find something suitable for your royal standards.” 

“I am not your love, as I’ve told you.” The warning in her tone made him laugh again, her eyes only slits of frosted clover. “And I won’t be teased about my heritage and duty -”

“You know, if this is poisoned, I won’t die. Which is good because we know full well now that if I were to fall, your enjoyment would be in grave danger. You’d bore any unwitting night cap to death with your long winded explanations of decorum.”

Emma's cheeks turned a bright red, and Killian’s smirk grew wider as the Darkness tittered. Her jaw set, and she let out a contemptuous huff. 

“Shut up and eat your cake,” Anna said, rushing through to grab some pastries for a basket, the strange clear paper it was wrapped in crinkling. “You ungrateful prat.”

Emma slumped back against the wall, her face sour, and Killian turned towards the dessert. Torturing her was less fun today, especially when one of the other women lurked closeby to chastise him. 

“I don’t even like sweets,” he mumbled. Emma snorted in derision, sending a flare of irritation at the dismissal through him. Grumbling, he scooped up a bite, more than ready to tell her how awful it was.   


The first bite was sublime. 

Dark chocolate and coffee married bittersweetness to a tangy sweet burn of the sauce, which Killian recognized immediately for its flavor. Rum, the spice and molasses possibly mixed with caramel.

Emma was gone when he looked up in surprise, but Anna was back with another tray. Sliding it into place as he took another bite, she smirked. 

"She worked hard to make that. I realize your issues with her family, but considering that you both are harbored here, maybe you could try understanding that she is in a place very like yours. Waiting and hoping that her loved ones are safe." 

He felt hot anger at her comparison, but as she stared back at him, it fizzled. Anna was quiet but a brilliant debater, constructing arguments in quick succession that were almost impossible to dodge. A war of words with her was not something he wanted. Luckily, Anna turned to take her leave after a moment more. Taking another bite of cake, he considered her thinking. There was a small sliver of truth in her words. 

In a strange way, Killian wished that they could all stay like this, held in this happy oblivion forever more - 

A time capsule moment where this could be a new normal, and he could forget everything that he had lost; the peace he might find if the pale memory of Milah's hand in his or Liam's roar of laughter over dinner faded away. Instead, four uneasy pairs of eyes watched him as if he were a bomb, ready to explode at any time. The jade pair bore into him with glassy loathing, but behind that lay fear and a frustrating penchant for sarcastic, annoying, ridiculously genuine kindness. Kindness he did not deserve, and she should not be giving, even if she was an innocent. 

_ She's not innocent. She is as guilty as her family, as everyone who let the war take - _

"I know," Killian replied, rubbing at his temple. There wasn't surety in his words, the women adding another layer of distraction in his thinking. The Darkness, Ingrid's calculated stare, Anna's sharp tongue and Elsa being all around icy on top of the princess’s presence was akin to sticking his head in a vice. 

_ You only want to forget to make it easier for yourself. Are you so selfish and cowardly that you would forego your revenge on their murderers? You deserve no penance. _

"I know." 

The whispered hiss echoed around the quiet shopfront, the creeping shadow around Killian feasting on his shame and the absolute truth in his reply.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

By the eighth day of their confinement, Killian was sure that being in such close quarters as these women was his own personal hell. The princess refused to do much more than spend all day in tasks that she could exhaust herself doing, her eyes going glassy when pressed on any sort of strategy or allies her parents may had mentioned in passing. The Darkness seemed to be at odds with itself when she was around, skittish and curious as it twisted words to toy with her.

She was quick witted and bitingly sarcastic if need be, especially under the provocation they provided. Killian found lewdness to be effective in getting her to quiet, while the Darkness was much more insidious. If they weren't tormenting her, it was a torment in and of itself to be in the quiet alone with the nonstop voice. It moaned and hissed, screeching out complaints that felt like spikes through both temples, his forehead pulsing with effort to quiet it. 

_ Useless! We will be under the thumb of some idiotic master again if you don't act, if you don't acquiesce - _

His teeth set, fingers scrubbing against his jaw. For her part, Emma avoided him as much as possible, seemingly aware of how he scrutinized her at every turn while she did the same to him. It didn't help matters that she had won the hearts of the women, letting them feed her advantageous information all while they consistently berated him for his vitriol. It had begun to feel like a game of chess where both players simply chased each other with no pieces to speak of. 

_ They were your family, and now they betray you. Punish them for their insolence - _

"No. _ No _."

In truth, they were all sympathetic to his plight. He had food, hot tea, salvaged books from Nemo's library, and their caring questions that he refused to acknowledge. He had Milah's locket, which he refused to look at. 

_ This is not a holiday, they will be killed if you dither. We have the princess, get one of those chattering women to steal the shard - _

"No. They would be at risk of getting hurt then, too-" 

_ And? You could heal them when they return our power, our legacy - _

** _~~ A flash of an old smile under blue eyes, the same color as Elsa's paired with the same faintly colored hair. Elsa looks more like Olaf's mother than older sister, the little boy's grin missing teeth when she tickles him. He can so clearly see Olaf laughing as Liam tosses him in the air with Elsa braiding them crowns of forget me nots, Nemo chuckling as he smokes a long pipe, and Milah dancing barefoot over dusk touched rose petals. There's nothing but happiness when Ingrid and her sister carrying heaps of food with Anna and Ingrid's brother in law not far behind. It would be strange dining with the Duke and Duchess of Arendelle so casually if they were not so casual themselves. Barefoot, with rolled pantcuffs, there is a game of kicking a ball when the ale is drunk and so are the men. The Duchess may be making wet smacking noises on her son's belly as his sisters help, calling him their little snow troll. _ **

** _Nemo toasts with wine from golden summer grapes and sunshine reflected on sea waves, his voice booming off the tiles. _ **

** _"To our family. A legacy, a lasting legacy for all of us!" _ **

** _There is conversation over dinner, and later, quietly over drinks: Liam's hushed voice telling him that he loves seeing Olaf, because when the war is over he wants a life with Elsa and a legacy, an heir to Blackwater. _ **

** _The only person who makes Killian feel that same sense of hope, of wonder, is Milah. ~~_ **

The Darkness groaned in frustration, scoffing as it tore apart the memory. 

_ Are your ghosts loud tonight, weakling? The courtyard is empty. They're long gone, and we'd have our revenge if you would - _

"And, I have already told you. You will never hurt my family again. They will never play a part in whatever devious scheme you try and force them into. I hold my brother's death upon my shoulders, and I will not shoulder another!"

_ Always the pretender, you sniveling coward. Fine. We'll follow your line in the sand, vessel of mine - but should the time come where my schemes could have kept your loved ones from being hurt… Well. You'll just add another name to that long, long list of yours, won't you? _

Sitting in the dark of the patio, the Darkness whispered incessantly, even as Killian refused to answer it. It wound around him tighter and tighter, staining his mood. Slithering through his thoughts like some great and poisonous snake, it laughed its reedy giggle as the endless night turned into endless day. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Killian did not join them for breakfast the next few mornings, Ingrid giving a shaky smile as she pointed out to the stone veranda that turned into the outdoor area. "He's been out there since I went to bed on Sunday night, pacing like some caged animal. It's like time stands still for him, out there for hours at a time, or disappearing to who knows where. Today I started the baking, made myself a bit of tea, and made him a pot - he's still out there muttering."

Emma nodded absently, pushing food around her plate. 

"Girls. One of us will need to talk to him, and I thought it should be Emma this time. You seem to spur him into action with your attitude toward each other -" 

"I'm sorry Ingrid, but I cannot today. I can't…" Emma started, but when the words stuck in her throat, she stood quickly and didn't even bother to excuse herself, etiquette be damned. Running to her small makeshift quarters, she hiccuped as she locked the door behind herself and ignored the other women's pleas. Not today. She could not do it today when concern for her family tore her to shreds. Not when her parents, her friends and family could be… Nil's face came to mind, his complete indifference to her discomfort filling her with dread. 

Not today. Emma was used to sacrifice, used to the idea of danger and the wolf at the gate. She recognized the size, shape, habitat, and behavior that presented danger. Here, however, with its hot breath burning her, being in the mouth of the wolf was too much, it was all too much without having someone who knew how much she missed the wonderful people that made up her family. 

Sobbing into her pillow, she barely heard when Anna came in with a small tray and sat next to her. 

"Do you want to talk to me?" Anna asked, and when Emma shook her head, she nodded quietly. "Would you like some tea?" 

Emma sat up, surprised at how late it had gotten since she had excused herself. She nodded, accepting the offered cup from Anna. 

"I knew your mom, you know." Emma's eyes widened infinitesimally, her interest captured. Anna continued shyly. "We weren't close, or anything by any means, but… We talked, we knew each other." 

"What was she like?" 

"Your mom and I used to do etiquette classes together, but she’d always skip out. She hated the court, hated procedure and politics. Wanted to make a decision and be done with it, run in with arrow drawn to face the problem. We went to a ball in the Sacred Forest far north, and she wanted to leave until she saw a sword fighting contest. Her date caught wind of her desire and forbade her from joining - that is, until her protests won out." Anna smiled a fond smile."I had an awful date as well, a chosen match for me that was truly dreadful. Your mother's was even worse than 'Handsy Hans': your father’s twin, rest his soul. He was not kind to your mom. He bet a ring of Dav-, of your father's, that he could beat her and suggested if he won he'd take her to a marriage bed with or without her consent."

Emma winced. 

"When he lost and your mom beat the bloody pulp out of him, David refused to give the ring to her. He claimed that it was his, and his brother had no right to take it. They fought until Snow took it and we all tried to make our way back. Your father, the persistent man he presumably still is, chased her. They fought constantly, but he challenged her. It was a whirlwind romance. James eventually met Princess Jacqueline of the Giants, and changed his ways completely. I heard The Airie and Beanstalk fell in the war, but did not want to believe that all of the Giants were lost."

"I guess I never knew. My father doesn't talk about Uncle James or Aunt Jacques. I only know of them through the brief correspondences they sent before the war took a turn. Well, that and their sculpture in our garden."

"There are shame and secrets in every family. Your father called a vote on whether or not the Giants would receive a kingdom in the United Realms. James argued that not allowing them a seat at the table was forgetting their contributions to the cause. They had grown magic beans at one time, and Jacqueline was positive they could do it again. Instead, when the vote took place,they were denied, and then attacked by the Goblins. The Goblins had full control over the Darkness by that point, and…" Her eyes flickered down to her feet, like she was unable to look Emma in the eye as she continued. 

"Sometimes the people we love the most are the easiest to make excuses for, but I believe Killian when he says he has to follow that ghastly dagger's commands. He would never otherwise, I swear it." Anna didn't look up as the silence stretched between them. 

"And… What was he like before?" Emma finally asked, watching as Anna's eyes flicked up. 

"Killian? Oh, he was a ladies' man, a charmer in many ways but sincere in most. Milah made him tie himself up in knots." 

"Was he kind?" Emma asked quietly. 

"Yes. Too much sometimes, even. Gentle too. He could read people like no one else. He was sensitive, and had a way with words that was incomparable. I had a crush on him as a child, but we saw each other more like siblings after his mother's death." 

Emma cleared her throat. "It's hard to believe he was ever kind."

"We're not talking about a person who is gone, or impossible to change, Emma." Anna took Emma's hand in her own, gently taking away the empty tea cup. "People have to want to change, to make changes, and to be a better person. You can't change someone, but you can provide every chance for them to be better. You can see the good in them. Please don't forget that there is good in him." In pleading tones, Anna squeezed Emma's hand. "At least not before I do," she tried to joke, but it fell flat, the waver clear in her tone as she trailed off. 

Emma swallowed hard, her throat suddenly raw despite the tea she had just drank. She had to destroy him, her mother was clear on that, and yet...

"I'll try. Tell me more about back then, if you would?" Emma asked, her voice uneven. 

Anna recounted tale after tale, and Emma's mood started recovering from the slump she had left breakfast in. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

As the noonday sun moved quickly into evening, Anna returned with an empty tray from Emma’s room, washing the dishes as Ingrid sipped a cup of tea herself. The older woman’s eyes were trained on the long shadow made by the man prowling their terrace, his low voice sometimes coming into hearing, just low enough where words could not be discerned. Ingrid’s mouth turned downward at the edges, and she turned to Anna.

“How is she?” Ingrid took another sip of her tea, listening to Anna’s sigh.   
  
“About as well as you’d expect. She’s struggling, and doesn’t understand how to struggle. She’s stuck in the normal status quo we used to be in, where if you’re sad, you bottle it up and smile, look pretty, nod your head, and don’t dare to let any of the nobility see any weakness. The problem is, we’re all nobility, and he’s a -”

“He’s a broody idiot, and she’s an airhead,” Elsa supplied from the doorway. Taking a seat next to Ingrid, they shared a look, Anna letting out a snort. “I don’t know who you want to sort him out, Aunt Ingrid, but I’d rather eat shards of a mirror. It’s no wonder Emma all but fled for the hills when you asked that of her this morning; you proposed sending a lamb to the wolf. I mean for God's sake, it's the 60’s; he can't talk to women that way, but she's also going to have to toughen up a little.” She gestured a hand dismissively at the terrace.

Anna let out a noise of shock, sitting down beside her sister. “You can’t mean that, Els. I promise if you get to know her, you’ll see -”

“See what? That she’s not some vapid, spoiled, castle-coddled waif? Anna, you are too sympathetic to her. It’s -”

Ingrid slammed a fist down on the table, sending Elsa’s teacup rattling. “Elsa. That’s quite enough. The girl is…” She searched for the words, nodding her head sideways in thought. “She’s trying. She’s very smart, picks up things quickly. And she’s survived this long with… With him. I think we can all agree that _ that _is impressive.”

Elsa rolled her eyes, pressing her lips together until they were thin lines. “He’s still our Killian, he’s just angry. Hell, I’m angry! I can’t imagine how he feels. And so what if she’s hiding her feelings, tell her to join the guild. _ I _ have to _ pretend _ I like her.”   
  
“You are acting very much like a spoiled princess for one criticizing another for the same - a woman who has tried nothing but to be nice to you,” Anna muttered. Elsa looked taken aback, but Ingrid laughed.

Standing up with a groan and letting her knees pop, she dusted off her apron and smiled gently at the two women shooting eye daggers at each other. “I guess since you two will be busy, it’s up to me, then.”

The chorus of sniping comments from the sisters followed her out into the night air, muffling as she closed the door behind her. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Killian sat on a stone bench, still muttering but in a strange staggered way, a grunt of acknowledgement and then silence when Ingrid came nearer to sit. The buzzing of the Darkness and its whine that put his body on edge grew with her close proximity, a punishment for denying its dark whims of violence.   
  
“You never come out here unless you want me to come inside and be around the princess. What have I done _ now _ to deserve such punishment?” There was no joke in his sentence, the sourness of his tone layered as if an adder's poison coated his tongue. Ingrid gave a small shiver despite herself, much to his satisfaction.

“She’s a lovely girl, truly kind. Could do with a bit of learning, especially on how humans act or how to do a day's labor, though.” Ingrid sat next to him, and he tried to ignore her. The Darkness hated her, and hated how she ignored its presence. It snapped its jaws and demanded deference.   
  
“She’s a pitiful idiot with a royal pedigree. I hope you didn’t give her blisters on her royal palms,” he growled sarcastically and Ingrid rolled her eyes. The Darkness seethed.

“Killian Brennan Jones.” The tone in the older woman’s voice was forceful. “You owe me hundreds of favors, or as that leech of a creature calls them, ‘deals’. You will be kind to that woman, and take her out to calm her fears. She is the daughter of a dear friend of our family, and I will not have you in my home if she is a panicked mess worrying about them. We all have given parts of ourselves to the war, but she does not hold the blame. Be a gentleman, like the you I remember.”

_ Kill her, snap her neck, end this! She doesn’t respect us, we must demand respect! _the Darkness squirmed and whined. 

“I'm always a gentleman, Ingrid, and the leech is me and I am the leech, regardless of your memory. Have Anna take her shopping. They like each other,” Killian droned. He didn’t deserve respect, and Ingrid was right. The Darkness howled.

“No, you’ll go. She’s your charge, and holds your freedom.” At his quick eyebrow raise and ticking jaw, her eyes twinkled. “If you want to be free, you should be using honey, not vinegar.”

Killian grunted noncommittally.

“It’s settled then. I’ll lay out an outfit for her. Take her to the park, the big one in town by the sea.” Ingrid continued to babble on as the Darkness bit at him under his skin, desperately seeking vengeance. His firm line held true, though; he would never again hurt his family, no matter how the fanged monster tried. When the Darkness had settled to a normal skitter after licking its wounds, it chewed on the words Ingrid had spoken. 

The silly woman might have a point. 

Honey over vinegar. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr!
> 
> Or don't, it's fine, I'll only cry about it a bit.


	6. iv

Ingrid, Elsa, and Anna wasted no time at all, Emma appearing in the shop front slightly past noon. The older ladies buying bread and a teenage boy carrying several boxes of pastries noticed her first, their eyes snapping to the door she came from. The teenager made a noise between a wheeze and a gulp as the old women tutted, causing Killian to look up with his ever permanent annoyance. The smile under the loose waves of her hair was shy, and in the sundress of coral and cream, Emma was a captured ray of sunshine. Or she would be, if the smile reached her tired and slightly puffy eyes.

They walked to the park together, Killian’s annoyance tempered by her fascination with everything in the many touristy shop fronts. She marveled at stones and crystals that were marked as magical, whispering how clever they were if they'd gotten them right, and how sneaky they were if they tried to trick others. In another shop she questioned a well meaning sales clerk about corduroy and a peculiar blouse with capped sleeves that read ubiquitously, "Summer of Love", asking what other summers they observed. 

When the shop clerk laughed her off, Emma shrugged and joined in. People loved her instantly, as if they had known her their entire lives; the Fae thrall of old that she unknowingly employed was a matter of charisma, combined with her natural beauty, an unerring grace, and her rapturous attention on every word spoken to her. Killian watched her in fascination as well, the Darkness puzzling over their observations. Emma shot him a happy grin, but beneath it was a foundation of the old world decorum that he had once adhered to religiously - she was weary, and the cracks in her undetectable armor were there. There was no reason for her to be doing this, he realized, especially with him of all people. It was a facade, and a very well polished one. 

Moving to pull her away, they escaped from a store front caller who had been talking to her about the "future of sound" that was coming on eight different tracks, a large, flat, black circle in his hand. Killian could feel her sway towards him in gratitude, bumping him to the side. As sudden as her playfulness was in the gentle push, her mask was back up as they entered the gates of the park. 

It took Emma all of four minutes to raise his hackles. He'd forgotten about the bloody fountain; one second she was by his side, then the next she was wading into the coin filled bottom of the pool, a geyser shooting from rocks above her. 

"What the seven hells are you doing?" he’d called sharply over the roar of the water. Emma shrugged kicking a bit of water at him, looking for a minute absolutely impishly spiteful. "Just who are you, Swan? What sort of princess goes wading into fountains, especially those most definitely used for decor?" 

She glared at him, but it was tempered by tiredness. "Wouldn't you like to know."

_ Perhaps _. 

"Perhaps I would, darling." 

She hummed for a moment, watching another geyser shoot towards the sky. "I am not your love, or your darling." Emma fumed, eyes cast down at her feet, her face falling fractionally, allowing only the tiniest slip of her mask to happen quickly before she wiped water from her face with a pressed on smile. Anger gone, forced down to be forgotten behind thick walls. 

Picking up a few more coins as she made her way back to him, she examined them in her palm. "These coins feel like… Are they enchanted?" 

Killian shook his head, looking at a silver coin with the engraving 1967. "They're wishes."

Emma's eyes lit up brightly, and before he could stop her, Emma dipped a finger in the water. Several bubbles rose around coins, popping in a burst of pink sparkles. 

"Do _ not _ use your magic -" he hissed, lunging forward into the water, eyes wild. 

"Stop worrying, old man. I used only a tiny bit of magic. I only granted wishes for people who are here, and ones that wouldn't take a lot of power. A tiny bit will be fine."

She had to be insane, wet from the fountain and laughing at him, her walls as high as ever. 

"No -" A bubble the size of a hippo floated past. "Bloody hell -" 

“Isn't this what humans do here? Have fun in the park?” Her smile was pure happiness and joy, as bright as the midday sun. 

He thought back to Milah, Elsa, Anna, and their schoolmates in ladies’ refinement courses. There had been a turn of phrase they parroted: 'Fake it until you can make it'. 

The Darkness wasn't the only one perplexed by her willingness to push her other emotions down, at least; Killian found it vexing in its own right. Moreover, he hated that it reminded him of Milah, like a stab to the charcoal lump that had once been his heart. 

“They don't wade into fountains, or do magic in front of unsuspecting passersby. They walk or read a book -”

“Show me, then!” Emma grabbed his hand. Instantaneously, two things happened within him, both unsettling. First, the Darkness shrunk back like a wild animal, practically spitting. Secondly, and more worrying, her touch lit something long buried that spread through his body, filling his chest with heat. Her magic pushed the Darkness down, while a sort of levity flooded his veins in its place, as if someone had thrown open a window to let in fresh air - and he could breathe easier than he had in a long time. 

When she stopped to pet a dog, letting go of him, the feeling didn't fade. Instead, her laugh as she watched the dog wag its tail fueled it, and he felt…

“They don't talk here,” Emma murmured, leaving the dog's owner looking perturbed. “How peculiar.” She scratched under its chin, as Killian exchanged a nervous glance at the owner. 

“Always joking, this one,” Killian laughed, trying to assuage the strange looks the owner gave them. Pulling Emma away, she spotted something else that caught her eye. She quickly led him through the dappled sunshine. 

Following Emma around as she smelled flowers, describing the palace garden, or rolled down a grass hill, her laughter infectious, he felt a connection with her that he couldn't explain. Kinship due to nobility? Unlikely, and he hadn't been much of a noble in his own right. That was Liam, with his regimens and regiment, living up to long-standing expectations to fulfill the duties of their lineage. 

When she reached for him, her hand outstretched and head cocked as the wind blew through her hair, he took it to test his theory. Resting his hand in hers she ran, pulling him across the park, the Darkness knotted itself up in hatred. It occurred to him that maybe she was sent by Ingrid to accompany him, some ploy in which to get them both away from the shop. It wasn't a bad plan at all, in retrospect. 

All the while, even as it was caged, the Darkness puzzled at her actions. It squirmed in confusion as to why she was acting like she didn’t have a care in the world when it was obvious that her sadness and anger must lie right below the surface. Hiding her emotions with set shoulders, she blew raspberries at a baby that played in the grass near its parents, much to the small child's delight and the Darkness' displeasure. 

In a secluded alcove off a deserted trail, she stepped barefoot into a meadow, letting flowers grow around her in the tall grass. Emma did cartwheels as people seemed to follow her, a group coming shortly to begin a drum circle, a small gaggle of girls making flower crowns, and another group doing cartwheels with Emma, their skirts all tucked in as much as possible. Even in its lessened noise, Killian could hear the ticking way the Darkness thought, and felt it grapple with hiding its ploys.

They fed ducks, and she made him smile as she made sure the ducklings got their fair share of the cabbage they had bought. While most creatures stayed away from him, a quick glimpse in her direction showed a menagerie of water fowl, along with two peacocks, all vying for her attention. Even brightly colored fish nibbled at her toes and for a moment, it was easy to forget the turmoil her life was in, until she looked up and the light hit her just so. There was no denying that her pain was there, but well camouflaged; there was a familiarity to it that made Killian uneasy. The Darkness retreated further, a sure sign that it would be back with a vengeance later. If he had learned anything from years alone with it in his prison, it was that its quiet was never good news.

A bubble blower showed her how to use a rope, and soon she'd created giant bubbles that chased the breeze in detailed, impossible shapes, the wish of a child that she had granted. A band performed in a pavilion, and Killian let her convince him to dance together for a song. She seemed skittish around other men without his company. 

Killian tripped a few times, actually feeling shy with embarrassment and frustration when she winced at his attempts to lead. 

“I'm sorry, it has been a while,” he mumbled. 

“You're doing fine. This is fun, the music here is so wonderful!” Emma giggled in bubbly cheer, but her eyes were somewhere else. 

The song continued, and he found his footing, leading her with ease. Emma floated in his arms, sundress flaring out beneath the hand resting at her waist with each turn about the plaza. She seemed to drift away into her thoughts for a moment, enjoying a simple waltz. 

Another man interrupted and asked her to dance, but Killian found watching them brought another kind of heat that was unpleasant: something he’d almost call _ jealousy _, if he didn’t know better. He didn't like the way the other man touched her, hands too low and his body too close to hers. The lewdness didn’t go unnoticed, and Emma removed his hand, whispering something that made the man quickly end their dance. If it rattled her, she only showed the slightest bit of distaste as she watched him walk away, her chin held slightly higher and fingers slowly relaxing from clenching. Her step was slower after, a little strain evident. 

_ Interesting. _

Killian suggested they eat when she returned to him, his mood suddenly soured as she waved goodbye to the band and the man she had danced with disappeared back into the crowd.

At a concession cart, he bought her some fairy floss and himself a dark chocolate ice cream.

They sat on a bench, Emma greedily picking the candy floss from its cone, bare feet swinging like they itched to be back on the earth. The princess hadn't said much since the man had groped far too low for her comfort. The Darkness made its tentative play. 

"So, how many suitors did you have?" he asked, ignoring the beginning of his ice cream’s melted trail down his fingers. “I mean, before all this…” He made a gesture with his hand.

Emma looked at him doe-eyed.

"Suitors?" she laughed incredulously, head turned to the side. "None, I am not even allowed to be courted by anyone, let alone having -"

"So they don't just pair you off with someone in the court like you're chattel any longer?" He grinned when her lips thinned and her eyes slit into a glare.

"No." She looked down at the giant colored monstrosity in her hands. "I don't suppose they do. If I'm honest… I'm glad for it. My experiences thus far with men have been…" She trailed off, picking at the fluff. 

“I suppose I don’t see why your charming parents didn’t marry you off to some honor bound Lordling then. Let him get you with child. It would have sorted this mess right out.” He crossed his legs, looking up at the flowering bushes around them. Emma picked at the fluff further, refusing to look anywhere else. 

“They want me - they wanted me to marry for love. Like they did. Just not until I was ready, until I was safe. Although people say their marriage was a matter of ending the war or joining the realms, they loved each other first. They want… wanted that for me. Just without the constant threat of danger.”

“Want,” he gritted out on a laugh. The Darkness backed down, and Killian felt the tension within himself ease up . “They’ll be alright, Princess.” She pushed her hair back, and nodded without looking up. He was surprised at his desire to soothe her, but that impulse faded as the Darkness pushed back again.

_ Don't give her sympathy. You owe her nothing; she _ ** _should_ ** _ feel guilty. Soothing her? You're a pathetic, hapless, meager imbecile - she deserves the pain! _

The breeze blew through where they sat, and neither spoke for some time. He broke the silence with quiet bitterness in his tone. “They most likely would have killed your husband anyway, I suppose. Goblins don’t really care about sacrament or love.”

“I am sorry, truly. I -” She met his eyes, and he could see the sincerity. The Darkness in him wriggled under his skin and he looked away from her. “I don’t have words to say how truly sorry I am. You and Elsa both deserved happiness.” He felt his shoulders tighten, his body going taut. A warm hand touched his forearm, and he looked up to meet her eyes, the light of the summer sun making them viridescent. “You still deserve happiness. Dark One or not.” Sincerity underlined every word she spoke.

The Darkness under his skin shrieked, repeating its song. 

_ You are nothing, nothing, you deserve nothing, to be pulled into nothingness. You will never find happiness, you will live an eternity of nothing! _

Her thumb stroked gently, leaving the tiniest smear of pink from her sweet treat on his shirt. Everything was quiet except for the breeze, the birds around them, and the far off chatter of others in the park. He took a bite of his ice cream and she smiled thinly, pulling away and crossing her legs underneath her body.

"If I could change what happened, if I could have stopped all of this, I would have done everything in my power. I'm sorry the war ruined so many lives. I'm sorry I didn't know," Emma whispered quietly, the paper cone in her hands picked clean. 

He felt his lips upturn slightly, the ghost of a smile starting as they sat in the sun. The Darkness was quiet, outmaneuvered by the princess' unexpected kindness. 

“It's really beautiful here. It's so much more vibrant than the palace, and I feel so much more…” The sun started to set, thick swirls of pink and purple melting into orange lined with gold in the sky as she searched for the right word. 

“Free,” Killian finished. 

The Darkness laughed inside his mind. 

She looked up at him, her head cocked. “Yes. Free. I feel free.”

The wind caught her hair and dress, making her laugh brightly. For him, it was a moment of strange lucidity and brought her into sharp focus: gentle curves, the soft Cupid's bow of her lips stained by sugar, long eyelashes that lay above blushing cheeks. The sea was a ways off, but he could smell the salty spray mixing with the warmed sugar. 

“What would you do if you were king, Killian?” Emma asked softly, distracted, as her mind drifted no doubt to where her family lay. 

He did not need to pause or think, the Darkness rising up to strike as he responded. “I would get revenge on everyone who ever crossed me.”

Despite how roughly his voice came out, Emma didn't flinch, only turned to stare back at him - through him, really - in a way that made him feel small. Even the Darkness squirmed under her scrutiny, as if she could see the half truth there, the fear that drove this vessel, and how much omission lay in that vast fracture. 

Emma touched his hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze, looking at him again with those eyes that saw far too much. “And after that?”

Killian swallowed hard, unable to find words. 

“Do you think… Do you think it gets easier over time, or harder?” she continued. “Do you think you learn how to stop feeling anything when you learn of atrocities, of people left behind, of people forgotten, of the hurt and of the people who set out to hurt you? How do you ever reconcile it all? Because I can’t - I can’t - ” Emma stood, taking a deep breath and walking stiffly to throw the fairy floss cone away. When she returned, the smile was back and firmly in place.

“Are you alright, love?”

She nodded, and he waited for her retort on his pet name. The desire to push her simmered to a boil, and he pressed her again. 

"To answer your question: you don't forget. Actions have consequences, regardless of if they are necessary or of whether they look good on paper. Regardless of how you push them away by hiding in your palace, you don't forget or reconcile.” Abruptly, his understanding evaporated as the Darkness seized control once more. “Is the real world outside of your fairytale not living up to expectations, darling? A bit too much? Hm, love?" His tone turned mocking in its faux concern, but she only stiffened further, her fists balling and then unclenching as she let out a breath. 

When no retort came as a response to his provocation, he threw his melted ice cream away, their silence in view of the sun’s last rays following them home. 

  


Emma retreated to her room immediately upon their return, brushing past Elsa and Anna on her way up the stairs. Anna followed shortly after, calling her name, while Elsa just rolled her eyes, smiling slightly at Killian.  
  
“What, did you make her cry again?” she asked sarcastically. 

“I may have.” Killian grinned, stretching to look up the stairs, Anna staring back while giving him an angry glare. “She deserved it though if I did. She asked the most bloody ridiculous questions before we left -”  
  
Ingrid’s voice came from behind them, icy and unamused. “Like what?”

Elsa froze, but Killian chuckled lightly. “Are you going to lecture me if I tell you, Ingrid?”

Ingrid stepped closer, standing toe to toe with him, a clear challenge in her stature. “No. I wouldn’t waste my breath if I had to lecture you after I _ specifically _ asked you to act with some humanity for a few hours. I’d expect you would know what bad form was without needing a lecture. So, what did she say to you?”

Killian’s jaw muscles clenched, and the two glared at one another. He scrubbed a hand over his face, letting it rest between them in the air as he started talking. “She asked me what I would do if I were king, and I told her I’d get my revenge on anyone who ever crossed me and the Darkness. She asked what I’d do after and when I didn’t answer, she asked if it gets easier for things. I didn’t answer that, so she walked off.”

“If what gets easier?” Elsa asked, no longer amused.

“I don’t bloody know, tons of things, the whiny brat.” Killian shrugged. 

“What exactly did she ask, Killian?” Ingrid repeated, her low voice like gravel against glass.

“She asked if it gets easier or harder to rule when you lose people, and if you learn to stop having emotion about it. Then she kept saying, ‘I can’t do this!’ and walked away after I asked if this was not up to her expectations. What was I supposed to say, that like her magical fairytale castle life, it will be easy again? Let her suffer for a while. Let her feel the vice grip of reality.”

“You foul, rude, son of a bitch. What would your brother say?” Ingrid hissed, pushing past him to run up the stairs, the door of Emma’s room slamming shut behind her. 

Elsa sat on the staircase in shock at Ingrid’s rebuke. Killian only grimaced and chuckled darkly. “Well, that’s an interesting way to thank me for keeping her out of your hair all day. What would Liam say? Probably that she should grow up, or that she sent him to his death.”  
  
“Do you really have nothing else you’d do as a king but seek revenge?” Elsa asked quietly. 

“Oh, come on now, love. Don’t be ridiculous.”  
  
“I’m not being ridiculous. Do you know how hard it was for me when I didn’t know if Liam was dead or alive? When we didn’t know if anyone survived at all besides us? With death you can at least gain closure. I waited for decades for our family, for Liam, for you without this hatred -”

Killian scoffed, rolling his eyes. “It’s not hatred. I tolerate the princess because I have to. Make no mistake, though, I’m not making these ‘fun’ little day trips and tolerating this cohabitation by any sort of choice.”

“It’s a choice to blame her for Milah, who I haven’t seen you mourn or mention besides to compare to Liam and I. Like we weren’t anywhere as devoted to each other. Like I should want you to rip Emma apart, just because she can get you this built up idea of your revenge -”  


“You don’t understand - the war is her fault, her family's fault. Without the war, we'd have - "

"Killian, I can't imagine how different our lives would be, but that's not what happened. We reacted to a war, we all tried to survive and help others to survive - The Goblins did something terrible because they believed they could, that they deserved to have that right of dominion because women were lesser, because power and blood magic was more important. How is that Emma's fault? What happened to you?"

"Her family kept me rotting for centuries, Elsa! Milah and I had enchanted ink in our tattoos, a parting token when the Royal family sent Liam and I to the front. It let us hear the other's heartbeat as a steady rhythm when we were apart, her at home and I at sea. When they took her, that was the only thing - that was the only way I measured time in my days waiting in that cell, until I found that I could make the tiny portals to you and Ingrid. The heart on my arm grew slower until the day she died, when it turned black. I refused to believe it, to give her up, to admit that she… I lost myself in rage. I took it out on you, and on anybody who had more freedom than I. I thought we could save her. If I'm honest, I suppose I've known she was gone for centuries, known that crocodile-skinned rapist killed her while royalty locked me away so I couldn't do anything. I just couldn't…”

“It's fine to grieve, Killian. I still grieve, for Liam and his future, for our future. Revenge after this much time though? And revenge on them? No one could get to the Goblins’ realm; that was the purpose of locking them there, so they could not get out. The princess does not deserve to be a pawn in your scheme - ”

“You’re only a pawn if you don’t know you’re being used," Killian hissed at her. Elsa's eyes widened as he smiled maliciously."And you - you will never know how it feels to be so powerful and yet so helpless. Liam died almost instantly, and do you know how I know? Because I killed him. Milah took years to die, years I could have saved her, years where she was alive. I'd have gone to hell and back knowing she was waiting. Instead I was imprisoned there like some sick form of insurance for the royal family for centuries. You still have a school girl crush on the ghost of the man who didn't marry you after, what, eight months?”

Elsa didn't say anything, opening her mouth but not making noise as her eyes filled with anger. He realized his overstep too late, Elsa's head shaking in what looked like shame or pity. Pushing past him, he caught her wrist. 

“Elsa, I'm sorry, I didn't think before I spoke and the Dar-”

“The Darkness is not you, Killian Jones. You have drilled that into our minds, and we… It wasn't only you who lost someone. We lost our parents, our brother, your parents, Uncle Nemo… Olaf was just a child, a child who had no idea what was happening. I lost a brother too, you know. We even lost you! I forgave you for what happened to Liam. I forgave you because you said it wasn't you, begged me to understand that you would never. Do you know how much I wanted you to be wrong? You were in love with Milah for longer, and she was alive longer. I understand that. But I still know he meant it when he said he loved me. I still love him and miss him every day. When I'm ready, I'll move on, but…” Elsa took a heavy breath that shook, “Reminders like this set me back, and I haven't found anyone remotely as wonderful as him.”

“I -”

They were startled when they heard Ingrid and Anna leaving Emma’s room, each heading to their own chambers as Elsa climbed the stairs. 

“That was the end of our conversation. Good night, Dark One, if that is truly what still remains.”

Elsa entered her room, her door closing with a click, ignoring Killian as he whispered curses to himself. The whispers almost sounded like a conversation, two voices overlapping, hatred in each one. In a shifting mass of black he was gone, the hallway empty and quiet except for the ticking of a clock. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma let herself slide down her own door, ashamed of her eavesdropping, ashamed of too many things she could not control. Angry at the events of the day, angry at whatever it was - Dark One or man - that toyed with them like a bored housecat. And if it wasn't his presence, it was hers causing distress. 

How was she supposed to save her kingdom, her parents, everything she cared about, when her presence only brought chaos? 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Elsa struggled to sleep after she fought with Killian, deciding instead to get a head start on the day's baking. She was often the earliest up of the three, starting her days on only a few hours of sleep. 

She was surprised to hear a soft singing voice in the bakery and the sounds of a working kitchen. Poking her head inside, Elsa watched with awe as Emma baked with masterful efficiency and flitted around cutting shapes or pulling pans out to replace another. 

The door squeaked slightly, Elsa and Emma meeting eyes. 

"Um… Hi, and good morning - " Emma yawned. 

Elsa pointed around before talking again. "You actually did all this?"

"I - Yes. I couldn't sleep, and my tutors always drilled into me that if I was going to do something, I should do it well and learn it fast. Moving around, keeping busy, it's all I know. It keeps my worst thoughts at bay, and I think clearer. I've also had several cups of your coffee, which is wonderful by the way. This isn't much different than my calisthenics or arithmetic after learning your measurements. I did experiment a bit with some of the recipes, adding ingredients while using the alchemical method of like things in small batches. I made an amazing tea cake of honey, some of the mint from the tea I recommended, rose, and lavender, if you'd like to try it, oh and - "

"You're… You're actually smart." 

Emma hesitated, nervous and uneasy around Elsa. “Well. In some ways, yes. I'm well educated about my realm and its many subjects. Here, I'm nothing but some hapless - ”

“Emma.” Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose, then shook her head as she scooped up Emma's hands in her own pale palms. “The Killian I knew would never have called you spoiled or hapless. _ I _ shouldn't have called you spoiled or hapless. I'm sorry, and I beg your forgiveness. The things I said were terrible and out of anger, but Killian… The thing inside of him, controlling him, it's not what was - is - underneath. It's scared of you.”

Scoffing, Emma laughed, trying to pull away. “Oh, don't tease -” 

“If there is still the man I knew under what he has become, he is lucky to have someone as clever as you in his care.”

"Thank you?" 

"No, enough of that. I was a… I was awful to you and I don't need thanks for telling you what's true. We're family, and disagreements happen. I want to throw Anna three times a day, it's just what we do." 

"Yes, it's wonderful to watch. I grew up very alone. That's why…" Emma trailed off, biting her lip. 

"Tell me. You aren't alone now, alright?" 

"That's why I… um. That's why I spoke to Liam's portrait. He kept me company."

"Ah."

Silence filled the bakery for a long stretching moment, Elsa looking down at her hands. 

"I suppose, if there ever was a person to haunt people, it would not only be a Jones man, but Liam specifically. He couldn't go two feet without questioning someone's choices, or chasing them down to force them to be better. He expected perfection without sacrificing humanity and goodness. You'd hear his praises of 'good form' all over their ships, with Killian repeating it." Elsa looked lost in thought, smiling wistfully. 

"To the ladies of the court it was a joke, they'd yell it down on the beaches at each other while wrapping a kerchief around their eyes, and we'd all echo it back for them to find. The Brothers Jones of Blackwater found it funny. Or Liam did at least. Killian may have been a bit sore, I suppose, but Liam joined us to play, which made it funnier. I always hoped Liam would find me; that was my secret fantasy.” She sighed, closing her eyes as if to savor the memory, then laughed lightly. “He never did. Always ended up with someone else, and I resigned myself. I was always shy outside of our kingdom, and kept to the gaggle of girls I grew up with.

"Killian struck up conversation with us first, because Ingrid helped tend to his mother before she passed, and our father and the Lord of Blackwater traded before the Lord abandoned his station to avoid war. Anna and Killian got along well, and then Anna, Milah, and Killian, and I all became friends. Liam always stood awkwardly and stared at me, just clammed up, and I was nice to him but he fled from me as if I offended him by my presence." Emma laughed with her, surprised to hear she had been shy, but more surprised by the cadence of her voice talking about Liam. 

Rolling her eyes and using her hands, she continued. "Killian went on and on about his brother's love of debate, politics, theatre, the sciences… most of all, their mutual love of the sea and their keep. All things I adored, and what drew me to Liam at our primary sessions in the courts."

"Primary sessions?" Asking quietly, Emma looked at Elsa with confusion. 

"Oh yes, we all, as in all the Fae nobility, used to take primary sessions of basic courtly education in the summers so the Lords could meet. It wasn't as segregated then, at least for the children and women. The ladies of the court had no roles in most things outside of the household, so they made good with those who lived nearby, were well titled, or were especially interesting." 

Emma wrinkled her nose. "Oh."

Elsa straightened, explaining with precision. "It was before the population decline and finding the fundamentals of time and dimensional energies, creation of the pocket realms was just an idea back then. That changed so much, and truly allowed many more women to rule, lessening disputes about purity of lineage. Ironically, the best contributions to the Fae are exactly what sparked the war."

"Yes, I just... I never knew that world."

"I did. It was wonderful, while it was. It just took so much…" Elsa trailed off, until Emma touched her elbow gently, bring her back to the present with a question. 

"You said Liam loved debates?"

"Oh, yes - Killian told me all these things and he just idolized his brother, who hated me. Would be around anyone else but me. So, I iced him out, and iced them all out in the process. By the time they realized something was wrong, Killian and Milah were done with their poor job of hiding their relationship from everyone, and I guess they realized that Liam was an absolute ass around me. It seems to be a Jones men trait.

"So one day, Liam stomps over to me as I sewed in our courtyard, and hands me a pair of gloves. Beautiful, soft suede leather, dyed blue. Periwinkle. My favorite. He grumbled something about meeting all of them back at the beach. So I met him and a few others, wearing the gloves, and we played a round of that silly game. Liam found me right away, and stayed by me the entire night. I was beyond confused and thought it was a joke, or a lost bet they put him up to."

"He kept asking if I was cold, because I was crossing my arms, and I finally yelled at him: 'The cold doesn't bother me, anyway!' It was time to end whatever this _ thing _ was. Liam sputtered out something akin to “You bloody Ice Queen!”, which had my sister, Killian, and Milah angry, and eventually the lumbering fool came to find me crying at the docks. 

"He refused to leave, and told me that I'd trounced him soundly as a school girl, and he was terrified of me because he thought I was lovely and brilliant. He would have chosen me during that good form game, but could only see skirts and fingertips, and was unable to find mine before being mobbed. He liked the subjects I liked, and begged for tutoring in them on top of his rigorous Naval training. Killian had guessed, and hatched a plan with Anna, and then Milah, to push us together - but Liam had blundered every task horribly out of nerves.

"We admitted our feelings that night after pining for years. Only a few months later, whispers of war started. He bought a ring immediately, and told me it was insurance so he'd always make it back to me, jokingly begging me to wait for him to get back before running off with another suitor. It became a jest in his letters to me, and we'd count the days in our signatures. ‘Waited 32 days for your return. Waited 56 days for your return. Waited 110 days for your return.’ 

"Then it happened. The war hit a fever pitch with the Goblins capture of Fae women at a courtier function. Anna and I were there when the attack happened, but Milah was taken, our world was plunged into chaos, the Darkness destroyed the navy in one swoop. Suddenly, everyone was dying; we were fleeing, and my family was separated, but Ingrid refused to let us stop running until we were safe. We were _ never _ safe, so we never stopped. We didn't find out everyone's fate until we realized that there were no Fae besides us in most places. We returned home, but the changes were… There was nothing salvageable that wasn't subsequently destroyed by the shifting realms. So we took the gold we had, settled down here in Nemo’s summer home, and finally mourned. Put up pictures when we were able. Drew and painted what we needed to remember. Grew things. Learned how this new world works. 

"Liam never returned, and we only heard of Killian’s betrayal after he visited us and told us of his imprisonment."

"How could he visit you? He had nothing there, and that cell was enchanted -" 

"He was never able to truly leave that cell, but occasionally could make a portal big enough for us to speak through. Almost like a magic mirror. He was broken by losing Liam, desperate for news of Milah, and angrier than we'd ever seen him. Manic even. Lost and torn apart by that thing possessing him. Killian finally told me what he had done after he learned of Milah’s marriage, screamed his part in Liam's death at me because I couldn't help free his stolen love. We didn't speak again until years later, hundreds of years to him."

"Slowly, we grieved together again. The Darkness has so much control, but when he fights it, or it quiets, you can tell. There is a man still in there, a good man. The Killian I know, my only living brother, he is in there. Learn to read him, Emma. It may serve your cleverness yet."

"Elsa, I - " 

"Save it, especially if it is any sort of apology. I… I'm tired." She wiped tears from her eyes, smudging trails of them off of her face. "I just… did you make pie today? I _ really _ need some pie. Or chocolate cake." 

"Or? That is not the Elsa spirit I heard about! And!" 

"And? Emma, what are you - " 

"Pie _ and _ cake."

"Oh. Oh, Emma. I did mention you were terribly clever, did I not?" Elsa giggled, and Emma allowed herself a rarely held sly smile. 

"If you'd like to mention it again, I'm certain it will not hurt."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

_ The Palace, Great Hall _

Nil sat at the head of a long table with his father, Goblins on either side of them like some bastardized version of a royal feast. Carcasses of animals and Anisapi alike graced the long oak boards, with food ladled sloppily as the horde ate their fill. Various Fae struggled in their leg shackles to haul trays of potatoes and broken gnawed bones, their bodies aching for rest.

The large doors opened with a splintery creak, an axe that had been lodged in the jamb clattering to the stone floor. Pann stood in the dim shadow that was cast, straightening himself and gathering his nerve. 

"Come forward, Pann." Nil gestured toward him, grinning. "Don't be scared now, or shy. Come, come! We're feasting." He gestured to the various meats laid out, Pann's blood going cold as he looked at what once was a female Satyr, now picked clean to just past the ribcage. Large wings and haunches rested on other platters, Goblins chewing and slurping loudly. 

"I find I have no appetite, M'lord, but instead bring grand news." Pann smiled his reedy grin, the Goblin King waving a hand with a grunt at him. 

"Whatever you want, my son. Just get the dagger piece; I'm tired of having to try to parlay with the dwarves. Their tribal names are as stupid as they are." He took a large swig of wine, splashing some on the Fae woman behind him. Pann shifted uncomfortably at the thought of either of them being with a woman, let alone a wife. 

"What is this good news then? Have you found my betrothed?" Nil asked excitedly. When Pann nodded, the prince practically bounced in his chair. "Finally, I'd begun to think I’d never own her -" 

"We have set a trap for them, baiting the Dark One with a contact I now control. Tink Rebel, a siren from near the Blackwater. She played her part beautifully."

"I don't care, tell me specifically how you'll catch my wife, how does she fit into your plans!" Nil raged, slamming aside glasses. His eyes bulged, a vein in his forehead visible even under scales. Pann took a calming breath. 

"Not only will I capture her and the shard, M'lord," The Goblin King's eyes slid to look at the satyr, while Nil let his fingernails dig into the table in a long gash, but Pann continued faster, "I will give her to you completely docile and under your control." 

Nil laughed, staring at Pann incredulously. "Impossible. You cannot tame that dragon bitch. I am glad you joined us, are you sure you’re not hungry?" Clapping his hands, Nil smiled a dangerous smirk as a great swath of Fae struggled to carry out a platter, still sizzling with crackling fat. Pann swallowed down his revulsion as the once great body of the King of the Anisapi lay before him, the great forest boar Heston reduced to being served with a watermelon in his maw instead of an apple.

"I swear it, I swear I can get her to break. I have a hiding place, a place I keep my… Human, Fae, and Anisapi menagerie. A discotheque club in the old realm. I make a potion that keeps them young and compliant, even the Fae. I have hundreds of them in my fairy circle, and they don't even know - "

Nil's eyes lit up. "You're luring them to Never-Wonder Land? Even I know of its debauchery." 

"You and I know. The Dark One has no idea; he's missed every secret deal and smuggling scam while under lock and key. And the Princess? She is so sheltered I know she'll fall." Pann flashed a smile and after a moment, Nil and the Goblin King returned their own relaxed grins. "Your queen will drink some Ambrosia pollen and Nostras water, then listen to and obey every command you ask of her, like your own personal pet, in no time."

Nil gave a cry of glee, laughing as he ripped off a chunk of meat with his fork, happily tearing at it with his sharp teeth. 

The Goblin King raised his glass, and lazily licked his lips with his viper tongue. "Begone now, Anisapi."

Pann practically ran from the room, his own magic wavering for a moment before his portal appeared. He landed in Greece, adjusting his glamor to fit his human disguise, leisure suit zipped halfway up as he stalked inside his club. No music was on in the warehouse space, but bodies writhed to invisible songs while his golden nectar flowed freely. 

Yes, this was his home, and with luck he would escape the Fae political world all together with Nil as his ally. Now, it all rested on Princess Emma, the Dark One, and if they could survive Never-Wonder Land. 


	7. v

Emma did not see Killian again for over a week, which was almost a blessing in its own right. It allowed her to fully gain Elsa's friendship and respect, a fact which delighted both Ingrid and Anna in turn. At first. 

They soon discovered that Emma and El sa were a pair to be reckoned with, though, which ended with Anna shrieking and throwing pillows at them when Elsa discovered a poem from Anna's long term boyfriend.

"An Ode to Anna, Princess of Reindeer," she read, as Emma laughed and Anna tried to snatch the piece of colored, smooth parchment back. "'While one has antlers and in the forest hides, I only wish I could lay a crown as lovely, before you were my bride.' Oh Anna, how romantic, Kristoff has outdone himself. I especially love the part about how he wants to ride you as well -" 

Anna went scarlet from forehead to fingers, the blush making her eyes blaze as they wrestled. Emma knew she was missing the butt of some joke, but it still took a few passes for them to explain - and by them, of course, she meant Elsa only, as Anna was too scandalized to contribute. 

"We've been together for decades, it's cold here, and we aren't getting any younger!" Anna protested. "Plus, he's dreamy in his coat, his nose is always warm, and his pockets fit both of our hands with a sandwich to boot.  _ Perfect _ man." 

Emma was rapidly discovering that courting was very different than even the most modern standards at home. Here, relationships were loud, heady, and were what Anna called 'the most progressive in modern history'. Elsa only rolled her eyes, and muttered about it being about time that women could wear pants. At Emma's pressing, they showed her another glossy photo book similar to the one that Ingrid had given her, this one a 'Fashion Magazine'. 

Pale women graced the pages, sporting large teeth - some gapped, much to Emma's fascination - stick-like long eyelashes, and long pin-straight hair falling to improper lengths. They wore the same long dresses in floral patterns that were similar to those in Emma's wardrobe back home, only with no bodice, petticoat, or undergarment. Elsa flipped the pages to show Emma a woman with a bright pink bubble in her mouth, her eyelashes long and rimmed with kohl and a shockingly bright cobalt liner, her hair piled high on her head behind a thick white band like a cone. 

"A beehive. They're all the rage. I guess that even Twiggy, Jackie O, and Mia Farrow have been spotted with them." Elsa flipped a page to a skinny woman in a scarf, shiny white boots, and a scandalous dress. Emma sucked in a breath, feeling like a child being caught with illicit materials. The other women didn't bat an eye, Anna flipping until the page displayed a darker, olive skinned woman with freckles and cloud-like curly brown hair wearing a shirt and breeches made of denim material. Emma's mouth fell open in surprise; pants apparently were breeches, and not made of supple leather or soft calico, but of cotton denim. 

"It's soft, I have a pair. They wash them so they aren't scratchy like cattle sacks," Elsa supplied. 

"I prefer skirts myself, still. I like to model myself after Audrey Hepburn or Grace Kelly. The classics, you know," Anna said, and Emma tried to nod in agreement though she was terribly confused. 

The week dragged on like this, no one too worried about Killian missing. 

"He'll show up when he decides he can forgive himself, so we can forgive him in turn. Or when he wants to be fed," Ingrid said on the fourth night, as they settled in to watch a horror film playing on what they called a 'television'. Her voice fell to a teasing bitter tone, and she gave Emma a wry smile. "It's why we don't go and get a cat; it would have competition. He wasn't always this intense, but even before that parasitic leech he needed space to realize what an idiot he is."

They ate popcorn and drank hot chocolate, Emma convincing them to try it with cinnamon. It was a hit with everyone, especially when the movie became terrifying and they huddled behind pillows. Emma had never seen any Fae that terrified her, but this was a monster and not a Fae at all, and a swamp monster at that. Its dead, cold eyes as it tried to catch its young victim made Emma feel ill. They reminded her of Nil. 

Emma's sleep that night was difficult and filled with shadows, shapes she couldn't discern or make out, and hallways with no end. Waking with a start, she was relieved when she found all of them asleep under a blanket, together on the couch. 

Life dragged on and the comfort of a routine helped some as Emma tried to make sense of everything new all at once. Killian was still nowhere to be found, an absence Emma sorely needed to collect her thoughts. She needed time to plan her next moves. Ingrid, Elsa, and Anna were ready to help with anything they could, armed with advice and suggestions. 

Chewing on a piece of chocolate cake, Anna addressed Emma over the books she was reading. Nemo had a large study full of books on the old lands and their culture, along with detailed notes. Taking advantage of this Emma spread them over the table and studied them for anything that might be of use. "So, when he comes back, don't let him treat you any less than what you are. You need to treat him like the asshat he is. Build up some walls and armaments, you know?" 

Emma sighed, resting fingers on the bridge of her nose. "I have walls, Anna. I have armaments. I don't like that I have to trust or rely on him any more than I like being away from my home."

"Do you think he knows that? Challenge him. Challenge us!" Ingrid said, smirking. "Take no shit, Emma. You're a princess, and your own general now. Your own commander. That demands confidence and respect."

Elsa pulled the piece of cake from Anna, earning her a playful slap, as she joined the conversation. "Be like your mother. Assertive and dangerously graceful, ice and fire."

Emma thought of her mom, how quickly and quietly she could dominate a conversation to turn it in her favor. How hard her gaze could be, how her brows furrowed as she asked a question that ensnared her prey. Her face of triumph when she was using a bow during target practice or on a hunt, or using her tongue to land centering marks in a debate. Feared and adored, respected and admired. 

When she tried to imagine that on herself, it felt wrong. How could she ever compare? 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Killian let himself stay away longer than normal, an eerie feeling of being followed something he couldn't shake off. It had started in a dark cave somewhere in Africa, as he lurked in an antechamber waiting until he could move somewhere less damp. 

It persisted through his next changes in locale, before he finally sat down in a dusty bar in the rolling plains of what was now called America. Nothing about the name America made any sense; however, after some light reading and chats with the Arren women, he had come to conclude nothing about America made much sense at all - least of all, why it was not called what the Indigenous or Northmen had named it. The bar was named even more nonsensically; a squat shack that was more rust than anything else in this neverending dustbin of nothingness was not exactly a 'Tree House'.

Killian ordered two glasses of rum, sliding one over slightly, the person who had followed him sitting down without hesitation. Her skin was tan, but her eyes were tired under her cropped blonde haircut. 

"Tink," Killian grunted slightly, her dagger's point pressing hard into his groin. "To what do I owe thi-" 

"Listen. I'd like to make this quick and easy enough for both of us. I know you have the princess within your grasp. I have a friend who wants to ally with her. It's complicated, but I trust you. I will be here, on these nights. Come see me. Dress nice." She drank her rum in a flash, leaving a hearty tip and a business card, then disappeared as if she'd never even been there at all. 

He drank his own glass before picking up the business card. In ivy green ink, the front stated boldly 'Tink Rebel - Siren - DJ'; on the back were a few sporadic dates and an address. There was no way to trust her, but it was better than any other lead he'd gotten. 

_ It's the only lead you've gotten. Magic is all but forgotten or mere banished remnants here; it should be easy to get the shard. _

"And it should be just as easy finding someone else to watch over the princess as well? Do you think we can find some ponce to pawn her off on, so we can be free of this?" Killian asked wryly, slipping the card into his pocket before stepping into the night's shadows. 

_ That too. The further away she is from us the better. See if Tink can recommend a short cliff with a long fall.  _

"Aye." He disappeared again, leaving a long trail behind before returning to the nearest point he could that would get him to Ingrid's. The walk was long, but not unwelcome. 

When he arrived it was dusk, a note on the door explaining the stillness of the house: Ingrid and Elsa were delivering a wedding cake, Anna was with her paramour, and Emma was 'practicing'. Elsa had even scribbled a little note for the princess, telling her that there was salve in the cupboard. Practicing? What could she possibly have to practice? Elsa and Emma were now on a first name basis? What all had he missed? 

Killian found Emma on the patio, the night air cooling as her she focused intently on repetitive strikes with a sword. She did not seem to notice his arrival at all, continuing to practice blocking an enemy, then parrying. 

Clearing his throat she turned with surprise, her body immediately in a well practiced defensive stance. Interesting. The princess was not a novice in swordplay. 

"Care to duel?" he teased, raising an eyebrow. 

She lowered the weapon, shaking her head. "You're not worth it." 

His blood lit, temper flaring. "Oh? Well, don't you sound confident. Haughtiness doesn't suit your temperament; aren't you supposed to be good at needle point? Swordplay is quite a bit out of the wheelhouse of the 'demure' princess act." 

"My father is the best swordsman in the realms. He wanted me to be better, and I…" She got a far off look in her eyes for a moment, then shook it off. "I just wanted to spend time with him. I like to think that I am very good at it." 

"Thinking that you are," he smirked, letting the Darkness ripple through his skin and muscles, picking up a discarded cutlass from the pile Ingrid must have provided, "does little to  _ prove _ that you are. Shall we test your mettle, Your Highness?" Killian raised the cutlass in an attacking stance. 

To his great surprise she did not flinch or seem prostrated by this bravado, only shrugging and changing her stance to defend against his chosen style. 

"I don't go easy on anyone, especially if they underestimate me. Are you sure you want to spar?" The calmness in her words set his teeth on edge, and he answered by throwing himself forward. She didn't even act surprised, moving in a subtle side step that left her in his previous position, her footing incomparable. 

Killian laughed, more surprised than anything. 

"This might actually be fun, especially since there's no welcoming party for me tonight." He circled her, and she mirrored his steps in their defensive opposite. "I thought all of you might have missed me a bit more. My ego is wounded."

"You left without much more than a word," she huffed and dodged a low arc, parrying away as he dodged to strike her side. She moved quickly, adjusting to try to attack his flank. "They were worried about you. You should apologize. Your ego deserves a good, sound beating anyway." 

"They should worry less. I see that you and Elsa are thick as thieves now, though. There's that." Emma fluidly rolled to move in close to him, throwing him off balance and forcing him to fall back in retreat as he regained his footing. Her furious volley made him feel young again, green in the ears. Liam had given no quarter when they practiced either. 

"Elsa is great. She might forgive you if you genuinely apologize," Emma said quietly, sword against sword, pushing with her weight as he slid the metal blade down towards her neck. He wasn't a lad practicing with Liam anymore, and the Darkness sang in his veins reminding him of that fact. His blood boiled hot as her advice was drowned out by the buzz in his head. 

_ You are so weak, so beyond help, that even this castle coddled, custard fed, soft boiled,  _ ** _princess_ ** _ has you on the ropes. She's the reason Elsa was mad, she's the reason why all of this is happening, and what would Liam say -  _

"Shut up!" Killian swung up in an arc and went after her like a madman, his attacks relentless as she played defense against them, the metal clanging sharply, enough to make his jaw smart. He spun into an attack, kicking out her leg, barely hearing her shout of disapproval. "Shut up, shut up, shut up -" 

With his back turned towards her while he was fighting with the voice in his head, Emma pushed up slightly, kicked hard, and took his legs out from under him, resulting in Killian landing on his back. Emma used her sword to smack his fingers, making him release his sword as he cursed. Killian growled at her as she took both swords and held them crossed in front of his neck. Her face was cool, expression entirely detached from the task in front of her. She had trounced him as if he was half asleep. 

That would not do. 

An outward kick of his boot aligned to connect with her knee, sending Emma falling back a step, while she was knocked out of her concentration by his crooked move. With a well practiced turn he let her sword slide against his shoulder, ripping the cloth of his shirt and digging deep into the flesh, listening with a delighted sense of malice to the horrified sound that came from her mouth. 

_ She doesn't know what you are capable of. What the world is capable of. _

Emma was frozen, her breathing unsteady, her hand shaking as he yanked the other blade free of her grip. It fell with a clatter to the tile, and with another kick it slid into a flower bush while Emma looked on helplessly. 

"Do you know," Killian circled her, her hand jerked free from the pommel as he shrugged the sword from his shoulder and kicked it away, "what people will do to you? Any of the Mortals or Fae that think that you could be a stepping stone, what they're thinking of? They're not going to play fair, or think about  _ bad form _ . Do you think they will stop hunting you, just because of a wound? You're going to have to fight to the death, Princess." 

Emma made a noise of rebuttal, but it was lost as he pushed her forward against one of the patio's stone walls. Pinning her there to look in her fearful eyes made the strength the Darkness gave him pulse in his veins, its steady beat a call for more. How could he merely whet his appetite and not feast? 

_ Make her pay, you cowardly poltroon. Make her hurt. Make her suffer!  _

Her hands fumbled, pushing him away as if she could, her movements no stronger than the touch of a butterfly. He caught one of her wrists in his hand with an iron grip, marveling at how dainty it was; it would be so easy to break, the voice in his head loud, so many voices that they were a whine covering any plea she might give.

Emma shifted slightly, eyes changed and no longer panicked as they stared up in fury. Her other hand twisted to reach the chain around her neck, taking the dagger shard that hung there and made a long slash down the hand that trapped her own. 

Killian’s brain registered two things at almost a second apart. The first was that he did not feel the slash of the dagger piece immediately. In his experience, that could mean it was such a precise and quick blade that he had not felt it, or that the pain from the newly made wound was so great, his body could not process it all at once. The second was a brutal confirmation of his thoughts, the answer arriving in an abrupt, agonizing pain that wrapped around the end of his left arm like a venomous snake. 

He threw himself away from Emma, all but shrieking as she approached with concern. 

Emma looked furious, but also terrified, her voice shaking. "I - you can't do that, how dare you do that! Why would you do that, what is wrong with you! And I - I didn't cut you that deep -" Her hands reached toward his forearm even as he tried to flinch away. The cut was slight to the point of barely bleeding. She was right; she had barely nicked him in the trail she made down his hand to his wrist, and then a bit longer. 

It felt as though she dipped his hand in fire, while someone rubbed jagged glass up and down his nerves. Killian saw white, the world taken from him in bright flashes that made the Darkness screech. His hand was burning, the world was burning. 

As soon as it had come, it was gone. The same delicate wrist twisted to let slender fingers on her cool hand slide across the scrape, all pain gone, disappearing to next to nothingness. Light poured into him, light that was so vast, so intangible, so heavy in ways that were not bound by any laws Killian knew. The Darkness fled, hid away from what it knew was something ancient that followed no arcane limitations. His shoulder wound closed up as she laid a hand over it, the knitted flesh without an ache or scar that the Darkness would have left. 

The moment she was done, Emma scrambled backward and so did he, the distance as they both caught their breath warranted. 

Killian examined her, watching her shoulders shake and her hair fall in a curtain around her face. There was a dull ache in his hand briefly, but the Darkness was only a far off murmur. It was far too weak to protest when he moved closer, muttering an apology in her direction. 

"I don't - M'sorry."

For her part, Emma nodded as she shrank away, before she stood to stare down at him. "You always have so many apologies, Killian. So many times when you could have just been…" Emma trailed off, biting her lip and fighting back emotions. She collected herself with another breath. "You could just try to forego apologies, to try and get it right without having to break someone first. What did you - what did it want you to do to me? What would you have had to apologize for if I hadn't..."

He could not think of a reply, and if he had, he would not have given it. Emma was right. Watching her walk away, his hand throbbed. Looking down at the long mark, Killian noticed it was reopening, the dull ache starting at the top of his palm making his fingers stiffen and bend. With the princess’s departure, the Darkness crept back in slow increments, and he waited for their own dark magic to do its healing work on his crooked fingers. 

The Darkness pushed at the scrape, its powerful magic attempting to imitate the light that had healed Killian’s shoulder. When nothing happened, the Darkness howled, strange emotions running through it and its vessel. Among the heaviest of them was the Darkness' terror, and Killian’s feeling of a deep, burning regret, laced with shame. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma managed to avoid him in ways that grew more cunning with each day that passed. The date was set for their meeting with Tink and entry into the club, preparations being made by everyone in the house as they focused on Emma. He hadn't even told her about this potential meeting, she had to learn of the development through Elsa, the coward. It was easier for him to disappear that way, his own form of avoidance from the way Ingrid's ever-knowing eyes immediately narrowed in on the way Emma and he pretended that the other didn’t exist 

Elsa dug out a dagger to match the sword they found for Emma, which Anna helped her practice with. Anna was a surprisingly talented blade fighter, and he could see Emma's tension ease when Anna volunteered to help her train. He had also seen the quick look of panic at the thought of having to partner with him again. 

_ She's scared of you, this goes in our favor. The look of fear there is - _

"Enough."

_ You weren't going to hurt her, just instill a bit of real world fear. We only listed some suggestions of things to tell her, not things to do. Those were ideas, just that. You didn't act on them, even if you could have. You could have, but you weren't strong enough. You frightened her and look at how well it worked!  _

Killian snorted, scrubbing up his face before giving up and resting his head in his hands. Weak enough? He was plenty weak enough, and the Darkness knew it too, had whispered into his ear things no one should experience, justifications wrapped around each act. ' _ She deserves it _ ',  _ 'Make her suffer' _ , ' _ She's your greatest foe _ ', ' _ She can't stop you _ ', all hissed over and over, every word made to sound so enticing. The urge to retch came over him, the old pew creaking against his weight as he stood to pace, his bad hand throbbing from its use in his hurry. 

His bad hand. That was the only thing the Darkness seemed concerned about besides the ever-present need for the shard, its few words on the subject curt and bitterly sharp. It had never seen a wound like this. The dagger was meant to control the Darkness, to bind it to a vessel full of vengeance. It could kill the vessel, transferring ownership to another as had been done in ancient times, but that required ceremony. His hand had gone from a dull uncomfortable twinge to throbbing sharp shooting spasms that caused his fingers to stiffen into a claw like form. He kept his palm wrapped in gauze, alarmed to find the scrape, now a cut, leaving bloody stains. 

Arguing with the Darkness over this was no use. It was its own pain, its own form of torture on top of his penance for attacking Emma. That and the constant echo of Emma's voice rang in his head like a church bell, sometimes louder than the cacophony that was the Darkness, other times only a gentle tone. If this was his punishment, it was his to suffer alone. The small abbey somewhere in the mountains was far enough to cover their tracks, changing locations to make it harder to use a location spell. It seemed fitting, too, to search for penance in this quiet, snow filled hall, the stained glass and belfry crumbled onto the rough floor. 

_ You can't have your freedom without her absolute compliance. She's not ready for a battle, not ready for the world. If you're not willing to train her properly, the Goblin will -  _

"Please, enough." Thoughts of the Goblin Prince and what he might do, how close Killian had come to acting like the creatures who had taken Milah, swirled in another deep pull of his gut even as he paced in the cold cathedral. 

_ She was safe, and you should make sure she learns this lesson. We need her not completely broken, but close, so close, to gain our freedom. And shouldn't the sheep know that the wolf is - _

"I said enough! Enough."

Silence finally came, except for the gentle cadence of Emma's words.

_ "You could just try to forego apologies, to try and get it right without having to break someone first."  _

_ "What would you have had to apologize for if I hadn't…"  _

Killian promised himself that he would never find out. Disappearing with a puff of smoke, he appeared miles outside of town, and began the long walk down the mountain to the shop. Even as the Darkness squirmed under his skin like electric eels, he focused on crafting an apology to Emma to vow that regardless of their dislike for each other, he would never violate her, couldn't even lay a finger on her without permission due to the dagger's magic. 

Every word seemed wrong, and by the time he arrived at the shop front to quietly slip back onto the patio, he realized that he was in a deep bloody mess of it. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma was well accustomed to avoidance. It was an important part of palace survival when everyone wanted you nearby for their vanity, prestige, or to mite out a point in a quarrel, or your least favorite tutor was trying to teach you your least favorite lessons. To think she'd give a king's ransom just to see Regina's cross face with her eyebrows almost pinched into one straight line again, to go back to when translation of ancient runes was her greatest worry… 

Someone avoiding her while she avoided them, though, that was new. This was new. Emma found it refreshing as she tried to spin the positives of working with a sociopath. He knew what he'd done, what he'd broken, almost as much punishment as the nightmares he introduced with his actions, or the thought of Nil's threats made good creeping up on her without warning. Sleep no longer came between worries for those who she left behind to Nil and the Goblins’ wrath and those who she cared for here, further haunted by thoughts about who might be lurking nearby. Elsa or Anna found her asleep in strange places at strange times, Ingrid picking up on the tension immediately like some hunting hound, and all three of them tried to chase down the creature Emma feared. 

How could Emma ever tell them it was Killian? That her fear was how he might lose control because of the demon voice in his head; how he had looked at her and their struggle before he retreated, how he made her feel in the few seconds that he took away her own limited control? 

Elsa and Ingrid continued to push, and Anna watched quietly, observing until she asked Emma up to her room. It was almost dark, dusky colors painting the glimpse of the sea into a rainbow when Emma took Anna’s hand and helped both of them out of her window and onto the roof. Anna had brought a basket full of blankets, a thermos of hot chocolate, and chocolate covered orange peel for both of them, making Emma squint in suspicion. 

"Emma, my family… Well. It's hard to be the less exceptional one in some ways. Ingrid, Elsa, my mother, and Olaf were all gifted with incredible talent, ice magic passed down through generations. My father had normal or average talent, and I followed after him," Anna began, handing Emma the thermos cup, laden full of the steaming beverage. She held up a finger to indicate just a moment, sprinkling a small container of cinnamon over the drink. Emma smiled. 

"The thing about being ordinary, or I suppose I should say not extraordinary, is the difference in the sets of problems my sister and I faced, and as such, the way we see the world. Elsa is brave, she's daring, and she's far beyond outspoken. Ingrid is the same; they don't see the purpose in not beating down doors to find what's behind," Anna said, nibbling on the orange peel. "For me, it was never that easy. I learned instead to watch, to wait, to listen and learn before rushing ahead to leap. I know that sometimes force is not the way to help." 

Emma tried to interject, but Anna shook her head, laying an arm around Emma's shoulders. 

"Emma, anyone can see you’re trying to be strong, but I can see you're hurting." Emma flinched in her hold, and Anna gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me anything. You don't have to say anything, or talk about specifics - you can vent, you can talk, I can talk, or you can ask for advice. I just don't want you to feel alone, and I want you to feel free to tell me if something happened with no worry of anyone else knowing. I'll listen, even if it's just to silence."

"Anna, I -" Emma began but couldn't finish, instead crying onto her shoulder in a sudden onslaught of tears. Her hiccuping gasps left Emma feeling like her lungs didn't work, but Anna was patient, only stroking her hair and soothing her, giving her soft paper handkerchiefs from a box in her basket. 

Emma heard a noise, both of them turning to see Killian pacing the patio, talking to himself as was usual in the evening hours. 

"Emma, I'm not going to pry, but I know that he did something awful to you. I know that he can be truly a terrible person, and that we sometimes protect him too much." Anna looked from Killian to Emma, her lips a straight line in concern. "I will be damned, though, if he touched you, if he acted in any way less than a gentleman; I will gut him myself -" 

"He didn't. Not really. We were sparring and he was suddenly so angry. It was like a switch went off, he just lost control. He scared me. He terrified me, because I thought he might do something, I thought he'd be like Nil. He stopped -"

"I'll kill him myself if you like; he's bound to never hurt any of us, that disgusting -" 

"No," Emma started, reaching for Anna. "That's just it. He stopped, and he looked just as terrified as me. I don't think… I think he's losing a battle too; I think that thing is grinding him down. I could almost hear it, and it's a constant scream. It’s torture, Anna. I - I don't think - I think whatever safeguard he has for you, Elsa, and Ingrid, is holding what's in his head on a tether. I don't think he was going to hurt me, but I think that thing inside of him wanted me to be afraid. It wants him to doubt himself, to keep him scared too."

"It's still not OK, Emma, he still -" 

"It's not right, and I know that. However, nothing happened and I… This situation we're in, he's been alone with that thing in his head for a long time. It's not the first time I've seen him struggle for control and win. I don't think he would ever do anything to betray the last vestiges of humanity in himself."

Anna mulled over Emma's words, weighing them. "Elsa says there's still good in him if you look for it, but I admit this only to you - that thing is definitely getting louder. I'll think of something to keep you two away from each other for now."

"Thanks, Anna," Emma whispered, resting her head on her knees. 

They went to bed soon after, after Emma accepted Anna’s offer to train with her in the morning instead of Killian with great relief. With her mind focused elsewhere, Emma almost forgot about his existence as they spent the morning and afternoon practicing stances and blows, until Ingrid asked them to go drop off a package at the harbor. 

"No," Killian said flatly, without looking at Emma. 

As Anna raised her palm and started to speak, Ingrid gave her a withering look that Anna returned with her own glare. "I'll go, it's not a big deal -" 

"You have chores to attend to, and are minding the shop. The princess has not seen our harbor, and needs a chaperone. Specifically, her chaperone, and the one that is charged with protecting her while she is in our care. Unless he has decided to forego protecting her, in which case I will personally make sure that he cannot step foot in this home again."

"It's fine," Emma shrugged. "It's not a big deal. To the harbor and back, maybe an hour or so. Let's not make a fuss."

Emma walked away to fetch her shoes before anyone could start up again. Waiting outside, she found herself entirely unconcerned with who would be joining her; regarding the sea up close and personal was an experience she needed to count as a win. The sea was a primordial part of what created magic, an element of nature that had long been fought over by many different species. Peace had been hard won for those in the ocean's depths, and here it was again in danger. If this might be her last chance to see it before either the beginning of a war or her abominable marriage, she would not let anything stand in her way. 

Killian stalked out a few minutes later with nothing more than an affirmative nod at her. She followed in silence, his exasperated body language becoming more and more noticeable. He cleared his throat a few times as if he had something to say, only to end up more tense than before while furiously picking at his ear. Emma had finally had enough with the entire debacle after he practically ran into another woman while mulling his thoughts. The drop off itself was quick, but when she did not turn in the direction of home immediately, he began to press her. 

"We're done here, aren't we?"

"I have other things I'd like to do," she replied firmly, with a slight shrug of dismissal. "Go back, or do something else if you like. It doesn't matter." 

"No. If I show up without you, Ingrid will throw me out on the bloody streets! Do whatever it is on your own fucking time, princess, I'm not -" Killian’s voice grew louder, but Emma interrupted with a sigh. 

"Killian, I'd appreciate it if you could just…" Emma trailed off, her voice tired. "Just try and be a good person, a gentleman, just until I get to see the ocean, finally. I've already forgiven you, and I can't have you ruin this for me too."

Killian sputtered, his face turning from calm to angry in a flash, then almost just as quickly becoming impassive once more. It would have been amusing, if she had been willing to tolerate his behavior. He stayed quiet, unsettling so, as she took in the sea. The silence itself was surprisingly companionable, both of them sitting on the pier's edge, the port bustling with brightly colored fishing boats. The sun dipped lower, finally settling into the sea and spreading out blankets of pinks on the horizon. 

"Thank you," Emma whispered, and Killian grunted. Emma refused to turn to look at him, but let her words spill over into the darkening water. "We don't have to like each other, but that - when we were sparring - that can't happen again Killian. I need to trust you enough to know that you would never -" 

Killian made to start speaking and Emma waved her hand in an attempt to make him stop. 

"No. Listen. I am not saying that - I know that wasn't your intention when this happened. You caught yourself, you didn't - You didn't let it push you into becoming someone you aren't, even under all of… you didn't let yourself. I just need the promise that you won't let that thing take over you, that you won't let it master you when you have control. That thing wants me destroyed."

Killian swallowed hard, and took a moment before answering. "I don't know if I can promise you that."

"You need to. If we are going to be allies, you need to." Emma sighed. 

"I found a potential ally for you. I can promise for now that I want to be free, and I will not find freedom within the Darkness."

_ Beautiful lies. Let's see how perceptive the princess is, hmm? _

"For now, that will have to do." Emma sighed, and stood up, finally ready to return. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Being around humans was grating enough when Killian was not in a hurry, but being around humans while under a time crunch, especially ones that tried to flirt or were too nervous - it was hell. 

The styles of human fashion had changed markedly in the time that Ingrid had resettled with her nieces, allowing Emma several wardrobes to choose from in both past and present clothing. Ingrid was taller, but with a quick hem all of her clothing fit the princess well enough, and Elsa or Anna's outfits fit her perfectly. 

Killian could find nothing that fit in what was left of Liam's or Nemo's clothing, and even if he could, breeches and a tufted tunic did not seem to be 'en vogue'. With a little research and a brilliantly orchestrated bribe of the women getting to dress Emma, he'd found a shop in the city that carried the newest trends in what this ruddy century considered clothes. They called it post-modernist, or mod - the contrast of black, white, and primary colors or prints more of a headache to Killian than cohesive. 

The saleswoman had been tinted red from the second she came to help him with his measurements, pulling out an animal print suit that he immediately refused, then another in an itchy fabric she called corduroy. After many attempts, he settled on a few garments, and hoped that Emma didn't have nearly as much trouble with whatever Anna or Elsa cooked up. 

Killian heard her protests behind the door as he adjusted the neck of the damned clothing that this world had made popular. Anything called a 'turtleneck' shouldn't be a mainstream garment, but here he was wearing one in black, tucked into charcoal and blue checkered linen trousers with a matching 'sport' coat. Plaid, was the word for it, the saleswoman had informed him of its pattern name, completely flustered by him when he walked out from the dressing room with it on in the shop; his hope that this would be inconspicuous was already in question.

Emma protested loudly again, and he heard Elsa and Anna laugh brightly while Ingrid made clucking sounds with her tongue. 

Stepping closer, Killian tried to separate their voices. 

"There's nothing -" Emma stammered, her voice high and wavering. 

Elsa soothed back, voice dangerously sugary, her preferred way of convincing a customer to try a new dessert. "That's the style. It's Modernist, all the rage in the cities."

"My legs! - and arms! No, no way Elsa, and these tall slippers are -" 

"Heels, Emma, they're _ heels _ ," Anna supplied. "You look amazing, and I mean it. In this realm, this is a deal maker and what the women wear out -" 

"There is nothing to this! I can't possibly convince someone to ally with me wearing -" 

"Oh, you'd be surprised. I almost put you in my go-go boots before deciding on the heels. And it will get you inside, which is what matters. If you have to, you can find more clothing. Plus, Ingrid did some light enchantment work on your bag. Your sword is in there should you need it, and I put in some hair pins and lipstick," Elsa said matter of factly. "Now then. Come on, let's get one last look at you -" 

There was movement behind the door again, along with more protests, before the door swung wide open in front of Killian - much to his surprise and Emma's shock to see him waiting. 

Emma stood at his height, or maybe just below, dark kohl lining her eyes and making them look like cut emeralds in their sharpness, contrasted with a soft pink color on her cheeks and lips. Her hair was pinned up loosely and messily gathered in the back, strands pulled loose over her shoulders and by her temples, the ends falling on the simply cut blue of the dress she wore. Strange slipper sandals with impractical straps climbed just above her ankles, the heel far too high for any sort of work, and she wobbled dangerously in unsteady excitement. A sharp 'V' in the fabric neck of the blue dress let her collarbones brazenly peek out with the top of her breasts, no corset or undergarment evident, with a dropped waist that slightly flared out to end abruptly at her thighs, showing off long legs that seemed to never end. Her shoulders were bare as well, sun-kissed skin everywhere on display as she tried to pull the fabric down with one nervous hand. 

_ Focus! What is wrong with you? _

The Darkness was ignored and unheard. Killian found himself unable to speak for a long moment as Emma's cheeks reddened deeply, the flush spreading down her chest so quickly he could follow its path, making his mouth dry. 

"I can't leave in this if he is going to make faces and mock me the whole time -" Emma began, growing even more flustered when the other three women burst into peals of laughter. "Please, there has to be a longer gown than this -" 

Killian cleared his throat, unsure if he would be able to speak without his voice cracking, leveling a glare at Elsa. "I agree. This - this won't work. She needs to be able to move, to not stand out -" 

Mumbling something, a flash of magic caught Emma's shoes with a silvery hue. "There. Stability charm." Ingrid nodded. "High boots were all the rage in the Court for some time. This charm saved my neck before. You should be just fine now."

"As for moving and standing out," Elsa purred, holding Emma's shoulders and giving Killian a salacious look of amusement, "the charm and her bag should be just fine for any trouble you may run into. She'd stand out if she didn't wear something trendy, especially with it being such a warm spring. Or are you implying that Emma stands out for another reason?" 

The air crackled between them, the bait in Elsa's questioning apparent to everyone but Emma, who looked perplexed.

"Killian, I don't like it either. I can find something in their closet that is -" Emma began, reaching her hand towards him. He flinched away, Elsa giggling once more before Anna gave her a sharp pinch. Even the Darkness stayed quietly observant, as unsteady and unaware as Emma in this regard. 

Killian scrubbed a hand over his face furiously, giving them all a thin smile. "No, no, Elsa knows best about these things. Come on then, shall we? I don't want her getting any more  _ bright ideas _ ." Emma stepped around him, looking back confused as she stepped down the stairs to head outside, all of them giving her encouraging looks. When she was out of reach, Ingrid simply shrugged and excused herself, while Elsa grinned widely. Shaking her head, Anna watched bemusedly as Killian mouthed he was going to kill them, and Elsa mouthed back  _ Good luck _ . 

Emma waited for him on the terrace, glowing softly in the star light, bag clutched tightly in hand. She bit her lip, anxiety written across her face. 

"We don't have to do this, love. If you aren't ready, that is. We can train longer, work our way up to this, or have them meet under other circumstances." His whispered attempt at reassurance fell flat to his own ears, so it was no surprise when she shook her head. 

"I'm done waiting. I can't wait any longer; every day that passes means it’s more likely that…" Emma looked down, taking a deep breath. "Let us be done with this."

"Aye." Offering his hand, she slipped her own palm against his and curled her fingers to rest interwoven with his. They took a step together and were gone. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma was unprepared for the combined smell of too many people, urine, and acrid smoke when they landed on the strange hard ground that made her teeth rattle at the impact. She gripped Killian tightly, resting her head against his chest as his jacket fluttered against her cheek in the wind and he let his arms hover inches away from her before lowering them to his side. 

"Princess?" he asked gruffly and she sighed, pulling away to steady herself on her own. 

Emma pressed a finger to her temple; there was another beat that came through the ground, far more unsteady as it rose up. The thumping noise made her feel off kilter. "Sorry," she murmured, looking around. 

Across the street, lights swung back and forth, lighting in different colors and patterns to what Emma was now realizing was a beat. She stepped towards it and saw a line of people waiting near a single entrance, strange words swimming across a black panel of lights. People jostled her as she tried to get closer to read what the lights said, but it looked like they were in a different language. She looked for Killian to ask, but he was nowhere in sight. 

A blaring noise came from her left, two large lights approaching quickly, too fast for her to stop. What was this beast - 

Hands pulled her roughly back onto the crowded walkway, a pair of blue eyes under wildly curled blonde hair incredulously staring at her. 

"Are you trying to get killed, lady?" the other woman hissed. Emma blinked, staring at her. "Watch where you walk, okay? You're going to get flattened by these asshole drivers if you don't. Your boyfriend there should have warned you." 

Killian came into view, staring at both of them with annoyance. 

"Bloody hell, Emma, I looked up for two seconds and you were gone -" 

"And in the middle of the street, looking up," the stranger pointed out. 

"And in the middle of the street looking up, at gods know what -" 

"Where I saved her from a car hitting her," the stranger added again. 

"Where she saved you from - Bloody brilliant, you almost got hit by a motorized contraption. Taking you to the city was an awful idea, I should have - ugh. Because that's just a bloody brilliant way of making mates -" 

"So this isn't your boyfriend then. This is your father?" the strange woman questioned, and Emma felt her cheeks flush deeply, Killian looking at both of them in disgust. 

Emma tried to stammer out a few nos, but not before Killian supplied something suspiciously sounding like 'bugger all'. 

"If he's some sort of sugar daddy, that's fine too, no judgements. It's the 60s babe, free love and love free, ya know? Just making sure he's with you, should be watching a pretty lady like you -" 

"She's nothing to me," Killian stated harshly. Emma sucked in a breath, but the stranger only shrugged unperturbed. 

"Right then. I'm Alice. Since I saved your, er, nothing person here, if you happen to be heading into the Never, do you think I can get in with you? You both look very posh I must say." Alice said, giving Emma a little spin. "M'own  _ not _ 'nothing person', we call them a girlfriend, is in there somewhere. I haven't seen her in weeks, and she hasn't been home or to the usual or unusual places. You catch my drift?" 

"Yes, we'll get you in!" Emma replied, laughing lightly. 

At the same time, Killian issued a firm, "No." 

Alice sighed deeply. "I hate to beg, but I will. Please. Her stage name is Cheshire, but her real name is Robyn. I'm desperate." 

Emma looked at Killian, her eyes pleading. He shook his head, crossing his arms. "Absolutely not. You've already almost died out here; we're getting in and out of here as quickly as possible without any more of your nonsense. Now come on."

Pulling Emma's arm roughly and walking across the street as the cars stopped one by one, Alice scrambled to follow. The line parted around them, leading to two large guards at the door with name tags on their bulky, overly large black suits:  _ T. Dee _ one stated, the other  _ T. Dum _ . Emma wondered how two different people could look so entirely like each other, and be so vastly but unnameably different. 

"We're on the list," Killian gritted through his teeth, the noise and heavy beats of the music making it difficult to hear. "KJ and E."

Alice tugged on Emma's bag gently, pointing out the marquee above, the black banner with its blinking lights. "It says in Greek, 'Θαύμα Ποτέ Νησί'. Never Worry Land. Never Wonder Land."

Despite the heat of the evening, a chill ran up Emma's spine. 

"Yep. Yer right here," one of the men said, pulling aside a red velvet rope while the other opened a door for them. 

Squaring her shoulders, Emma spoke as firmly and loudly as she could. "She's with us too," nodding at Alice. The woman's eyes went wide, and the guards at the door narrowed their squinting glares. Killian’s nails bit into her flesh until the two guards looked at each other and shrugged, letting them all enter. 

Past the entrance, Alice launched herself at Emma, laughing and crying at the same time. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, you beautiful woman. I - we, me and Bynni, we owe you." She turned to Killian and stared at him, almost like she could see right through him. "We owe you too, so consider this: be nicer to her. Μπορεί ακόμα να σας σώσει." 

Killian bristled, letting go of Emma in contempt. The inside of the club was dark, but the bars and dance floor shone with bright and strange combinations of lights, sound, and color. Women writhed in cages that moved around the large dance floor, the size of which was comparable to a small ballroom. 

Elsa had been right about her attire. If anything, Emma was modestly dressed compared to the strips of fabric some of the women were wearing, hips and buttocks on complete display as they undulated. Killian motioned for her to listen, and she peeled her eyes away to regard his face. 

"No more bullshit, Emma. You have to listen now." She nodded, and Killian seemed to relax more, staring at their surroundings. "I have to find our contact, Tink. She said she would be at the far end of the dance floor, so stay here. I'll be back shortly."

"Yes sir. No more disobedience." Emma gave a mock salute and he bristled even more. 

"Just stay here, look pretty, and act nice. You know," Killian smirked and let his anger volley in a faux sympathetic tone. "What you're good at." Emma looked as if she'd been struck, and he smiled a pitying grin, her glare following him. 

He made it a few steps away before returning, remembering his dire warning. "This is the most important thing, I almost forgot." His voice was deadly serious in contrast to the smug sarcasm he had just displayed. "Do not drink or eat anything they give you. Not a morsel. Do you understand?" 

Emma nodded, and Killian raced off towards the dance floor. 

### 

The music of the club was overwhelming, thrumming through her body. She watched Killian disappear into the mass of people, heading towards a raised platform with large speakers on either side. A woman stood, raising her hand with a strange ear warming device on her head, a short green dress that was covered in glitter fitted to her like a second skin. 

Killian had instructed her to stay where she was, so she leaned against a tall chrome stool watching everything with interest. A man with a saccharine smile grinned at her from behind the counter, the walls behind him filled with various colored bottles of spirits. He seemed too young to be there, a child-like mischief behind his smile, but one marked with a strangely malicious intent. Emma shivered. She didn’t like the way the man’s eyes gleamed as he looked at her with that same look that pricked at a familiar uneasiness.

“Can I get you a drink, Miss?” he said, and his voice was like sweet cream. “On the house.” She didn’t see him make any movement, but a drink suddenly appeared in front of her. It smelled of vanilla, strawberries, honey, and sugared plums. Killian’s warning played over in her head.

**Do not drink or eat anything they give you. **

A tag was on the bottom of the drink. Had that been there before? She pulled it between her fingers, almost upsetting the martini glass. A picture of two rabbits sitting on a flower bed while toasting drinks was etched on the yellowing paper, inky ornate cursive flowing along the bottom.  _ Drink Me _ . Strangely, if she put the tag down, the image from afar looked like something else entirely but her brain could not place what. 

Emma put it down and went to move away when a gaggle of women pulled her to the dance floor. Emma was spun, twirled, and swallowed by the dancing crowd. The music had changed, moving through her body like a delicious current. Her dress suddenly made sense - everything was hot and slick, the scrap of a dress almost too much fabric on her skin now. In front of her, a pair of brown eyes met hers, and a woman ground against her, gyrating her hips into Emma’s to the beat of the music. Hands behind Emma grasped her hips, and another woman, a redhead with dull gray eyes stroked up and down her sides. Emma felt overcome, the movements overwhelming. Swaying slightly, she tried to press through the crowd and back to the bar, but could not move through the group that seemed to only knit tighter around her. 

The world twisted again, and a muscular, lean, dark skinned man grabbed her in a dip, hands low on her thigh as he brought her leg up in the air. Pulling her close again, they spun in an elaborate tango before he twirled her into a tanned blonde man that made a cat-like purring noise, the dancers around Emma moving closer and making movements that left her breathless. Martinis were being passed again, tags being thrown in the air and raining down on sweaty skin. A waiter with the same gleaming eyes as the man behind the counter smiled that same saccharine smile that belied something dark just below the surface.

“Try a drink, Miss.” He had the exact same voice as the other man, and she backed away. “Just a sip, they’re delicious.” 

Emma refused again, now pushing against the flow of the throng of writhing bodies. Another group of women pulled her into a grind, the pressure intense, their hands roaming free on her body. Everything felt deliciously good, and she forgot why she was so frightened before as soft, gloss covered lips kissed a trail down her neck. Behind her, two women touched trails down her sides with rough finger pads, one gently tugging her hair, the other alternating small nibbles on her ear lobe while running nails down her exposed shoulder. They were all whispering at once, and Emma’s mouth was so dry.

“Have a drink, try a sip. Drink it, it tastes amazing!” 

Emma’s knees went weak as it felt like thousands of hands were on her, stroking her in exquisite torture. Scratchy moans turned to whispers and breathless gasps of the same words.

“Have a drink.”

Pleasure coursed through her body as Emma rolled her body and spun to the music. Her head was blessedly empty, she had no worries, and what would one drink do? It couldn’t hurt; Killian wasn't exactly the most trustworthy, so it very well could be she  _ should _ drink it. 

Something in her mind wriggled, and she realized that her eyes were closed. She opened them to see Killian struggling to get to her, Alice with him looking horrified as he tried reaching out his hand and shouting words that she couldn’t hear over the music. 

The dagger around her neck glinted, reflecting the bright lights that littered the ceiling. Light hit a dancer, the redhead with the dull eyes, and to her growing terror, Emma saw that the woman was falling apart. A skeleton with dripping remnants of flesh jumped with the crowd and ground her hips with a decaying man. Bodies pushed hard against her as she tried to reach for Killian. She saw more of the waiters giving out drinks, the liquid sloshing in their glasses. The redhead threw back a martini after clinking it against the decaying man’s glass, and suddenly they were young again. Emma screamed but could not be heard over the din. 

Killian tried to grasp her outstretched hand, fingers barely touching her own, but several of the suited waiters were surrounding her. The man behind the counter held out a drink, and with the illusion broken, she could see the viscous, bile yellow drink in the glass, noting the sour smell it permeated the air with. Emma couldn’t hear anything but the music and the chanting of the men with their gleaming eyes, the same four words somehow superimposed over the music.

“Have a drink, Miss.” One of the waiters tilted her head back, another held her arms, a set anchored each leg, and one secured her jaw open. Killian tried to fight to reach her, but the crowd clawed at him from every angle. 

“Lost Boys! Leave her!”

The man behind the counter smiled as recognition dawned on Emma, her panicked noises swallowed by the song.

The yellow liquid poured down her throat, and as soon as the glass was empty she could hear the moans and screams of agony in the music's shrill tones. Her body felt tired, leaden, and the room spun as she felt what could only be described as a thread being cut in her solar plexus. A force pushed her deep into her mind, swimming through darkness towards a small window of sight, watching her entire body move under someone else’s control. 

A low, oily, familiar, voice spoke from the depths of the darkness.    
  
“Emma? How amusing, it feels like ages since you and I last spoke!” It laughed, and through the window of what should have been her eyes, she watched erratic movement that must be dancing. She could now see the truth of what this place was, the glamour lost as some strange magic controlled her. “Well Emma, you’re mine now. A Lost Girl, one of Pann’s very own menagerie.”

A memory swam through her mind.

_ Granny had told her grandchild legends to scare her into bed at night. Granny would never deign to tell such tales in front of Emma, but Ruby on the other hand was happy to oblige. When they snuck out at night and drank honeyed wine on a secluded balcony, Ruby would try to scare her with the stories of the olden times.  _

_ “So then Granny said,” Ruby hiccuped softly, “that the Fae that got banished, they used to make these circles.” She swayed, making a circle in the air with her finger. Emma was warm and felt herself swaying in the warm winds, looking out over the orchard below. “They made ‘em out of mushrooms, and if a human walked through one, BAM!” She clapped her hands together, and Emma jumped with a giggle. “Part of their collection. The magic would catch the human, and they’d dance forever - you’d see these Fae with humans following falling apart, cursed to dance until they were dust.” She wiggled her fingers for added emphasis, and Emma laughed along with her, imagining a skeleton trying to dance.  _

Here in this otherworldly place, humans, creatures, and Fae came to dance under the lights, surrounded by walls painted in strange runes; they came like flies to a glittering spider's web, eager to be trapped. Dancing without end in pure pleasure, extending their lives as their bodies rotted then renewed again. Forever lost, Lost Boys and Girls for eternity. 

Emma could still feel sensation, but as if through layers of thick wool. Something sticky and wet touched her as she spun, and she felt bony fingers grab her wrist. As if commanded, she looked out to see a skeletal figure gripping her, both of them swaying to the beat. It downed a passed martini glass, becoming a heart faced brunette with glazed eyes, her fingers once again soft on Emma's wrist. She mumbled quietly, and Emma strained to hear what her own voice repeated back. 

"Have a drink. Have a drink. Just one. Have a drink."

Pann’s laughter was all around, almost overpowering the sensation of Killian’s arms dragging her away and fighting to free her from the throng. Nails were sharp, blows against them both coming from all sides as Killian pulled her to a door, her purse tight against her, spilling hair pins that he picked up and bent with his mouth. Jamming the pin inside the door's lock, it took a few wiggles before the door knob turned, the crowd pressing the door closed as Killian held her in the darkened stairwell that lay behind it. 

Emma willed her body to move, only to feel sharp zaps of electric fire race through her, making her shake from the exertion. The only thing she wanted was to go back to the crowd, to drink and dance, her mind fuzzy and warm like a favorite blanket. She couldn't hear Killian’s frustrated yelling, or feel how he had to grip her shoulders; she only saw his eyes staring at hers in sharp focus as if she had woken from the deepest sleep. 

His hair was askew and his suit was ripped on the shoulder, the sleeve dangling slightly, but Emma could only fixate on the blood that dribbled from his lip. Another long rivulet trailed from his forehead and fell between his eyes. It was closer to the right side as he faced her, one of her trembling hands twitching up to smooth the lines of worry away - 

Emma fell back, her body convulsing violently with the same electrical shocks of pain she had felt before, closing her eyes in an attempt to keep the voice out of her head. 

"Now now, don't make a fuss, Princess. You are such a prize, I'm so happy you could join my collection instead of someone else's. The whole United Realms is looking for you! It seems that the Goblin prince is quite taken by your beauty."

It was like nails on a chalkboard, someone screaming and clawing at her face while Pann laughed. Behind it, Emma felt her weight being pulled, a voice she begrudgingly trusted whispering not to panic.

"Let go. Let go, I've got you. Don't fight it, just rest," Killian repeated, dragging her body upwards.

Pann's laugh quieted while Emma faded away, her eyes open and glassy, the world going golden for a brief moment, then dark. 


	8. vi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings earned in this chapter for major character death.  
Pictures at the end of the chapter.   
I'm sorry ahead of time.

The princess was not heavy by any means as he dragged her up the dimly lit stairs, but his face was bleeding and she was fighting whatever draught Pann had given her. Damn Pann. Killian gritted his teeth tightly; he should have known, should have seen the signs that Tink was not herself. 

Looking into her soulless eyes was proof of her limited capacity and Pann's influence. Tink had twitched unnaturally, her eyes briefly wild, and whispered one word to him:  _ Run _ . 

The chase across the dance floor had been slow, dancers purposefully blocking his escape. But then Alice was there guiding him through the chaos like a white rabbit; except she was frantic and pointing to someone in the crowd being pushed on by so many bodies, all while screaming. Emma's panicked eyes met his, and their fingers brushed, yet he still wasn't quite close enough. When he finally could get through, Killian grabbed Emma unceremoniously, his body being torn into by the creatures surrounding them. He dragged her body up the stairs to what he thought was a viewing room, if the large whirring boxes and a fuse panel towards the end of their trek were any indication. He tried to gather Emma in his arms again, but she shook violently and let out a whimper when he lifted her. 

Emma had tried to fight against the potion’s power several times, its magic obviously unstable when combined with her own. Killian soothed her gently, not willing to risk what could happen if she somehow released that wave of unstable magic swirling within her. 

"Let go. Let go, I've got you. Don't fight it, just rest," Killian murmured, her body stilling. He was surprised how much she relaxed, and how much trust she put in him. But they were each other's allies now, and would be for longer than he cared to admit. The thought of them getting back to Ingrid's brought him immense comfort; now if they could just get out of Pann's labyrinth. 

The door to the top floor opened with ease, and he finally let Emma collapse to the ground. A glass barrier let them see the entire dance floor of Never-Wonder Land, the room ending in a strange slant with a glass banister. 

Killian peered over the edge, only to hear someone nasally humming a lullaby. Turning, a Satyr set Emma roughly on a sofa, before turning to smirk in his direction.  _ Pann. _

"Hello, Dark One," the boy creature sneered. 

Killian rushed to Emma’s side, putting himself between her and the Satyr. Pann moved out of the way as if he didn't care, hopping on his cloven hooves. "Pann, don't hurt her; she’s not a threat to you if you let us go- "

"Maybe not, but… Time  _ is _ up. Nil wanted her pretrained anyway, so don't worry. She won't order you about, and never will." Pann gestured towards Emma as she slept. "A few more cocktails, or a little poke in through the eye here…" The Satyr tapped at the corner of his eye with his index finger. 

"Fae are fascinating, you know. So many human like traits, and that silly biological feature of theirs - damage the brain, and it takes far more time to heal, if at all. She'll be a pretty little Queen to rival the old days soon enough, and a worthy royal who can usher in the return of the old ways." 

"The old ways were barbaric. It's the only thing I agree with this royal brat about -" 

"If you let her go, I'll have her give you the dagger!" Pann said in a sing song fashion, Killian’s body immediately tensing. 

The Darkness flooded his veins with euphoria, a feeling of malicious pleasure and joy hitting him roughly and without warning. 

_ Do it, do it, let her go, get the dagger piece and let us be done with this! _

It was entirely too good to be true, though, and Nil had no intention of Killian ever being free if his father was involved. Still, this was a risky bet to take, and if Pann did follow through - 

Emma stirred, blinking slowly as if she was still mostly asleep, an empty hollowness in her eyes. Her face was devoid of emotion and pulled tight, a slow look of recognition going through her as she looked at Pann, before reaching upwards towards Killian. 

The force of her throw was what took Killian the most by surprise, her brute strength as she gripped his collar powered by whatever magic was in the substance she had drunk earlier sent him flying down several flights behind the dance floor's looking glass. Killian tried to restore the air knocked from him so he could take stock of where he had landed. The chamber where he lay was concrete walled with marble flooring, the narrow balcony above where Emma now stared down at him from impossible to reach. Gulping in breath, he could see columns of thick concrete that led into a dim chamber with bars and fencing in areas, some broken or bent. Behind him, the thick glass window facade of the club allowed him to see out, but the club members only saw reflections as they danced and the lights spun in flashing patterns. Looking back up at Emma, Pann hugged her as a child might, and Killian wondered if Pann might have her try to kill him. What a bloody mess this was. 

A low, snarling growl ended that thought without warning. A woman's head with what were once coiffed blonde curls appeared from the darkness, parts of her hair matted and face dirty. She seemed very tall and moved in a strange way, Killian unable to place what was wrong - until her furry shoulders came into view, connected to two long legs ending in feline paws the size of trash can lids. Her wings fluttered quietly, unable to unfold well in the small space. 

A Sphinx. 

"Wendy, darling, don't make a mess on my new carpet please, you dreadful beast." Pann sneered down at them, Emma standing nearby with her hands clasped together. Her shoulders twitched, but Pann did not seem to notice. "Papa will be up here with our guest getting her ready. Have fun you two!" 

Wendy snarled, jumping to try and swipe at Pann and Emma, and he laughed. 

The Sphinx huffed, her voice like a child's. "You, you foul imp, you are not my Papa. My brothers will find me!" 

Pann giggled, and nodded in an over exaggerated way, mocking her. "Sure darling. Sure. As if those idiots could find you. Now eat up, he might be the last meal you get for a while with this bad attitude of yours."

Pann walked off with Emma, and Killian would have been in fast pursuit, if not for Wendy's speed. She batted him down and to the side as if he was nothing, his weight smacking against the concrete wall hard enough to leave a dent, that section crumbling to the floor along with him. Wendy, the creature, hissed at him and roared, Killian barely moving out of the way in time as her claws left deep gouges in the marble flooring several inches thick. 

_ Think you stupid fool, before you get us killed - _

"I'm working on it!" Killian yelled at the grating voice. 

Wendy blinked, and Killian took that advantage, rolling back to put distance between them. Gods, what did he know about bloody sphinxes? They were haughty, proud, and bound by the rules of their riddling, a Fae/Anisapi mix treated like gods in the old lands. He could work with that. 

"Sphinx! Oh mighty terror of the sands! I beseech you to riddle me your questions -" 

The creature rolled her blue eyes, before swiping another paw at him. It grazed him, claws shredding a sleeve of his suit and cutting into the meat of his shoulder. 

"Here's a question, you stupid little Fae - how long has it been since I ate? Answer - two weeks. Another question, when did we stop asking riddles for mortals to give them favor? 700 years ago. One last one. How good do you think you'll taste in that tacky suit of yours?" She lunged, teeth gleaming white and entirely too close as he desperately dodged. 

_ Kill the beast, vessel! Kill it!  _

"I don't want to fight, we have a common enemy! I'm sorry, I've been locked away since the war, I didn't -" Killian shouted, weaving through the chain link maze to get away from the Sphinx. "I don't want to fight you -" 

"Correction, you  _ can't _ fight me." The Sphinx approached the first of a few small barriers he had scrambled through. With a raised paw, she shredded the fencing and stepped daintily through. 

_ Subdue it, then kill it, kill it, kill it - _

"That's correct, love, but I also don't want to fight you. I need to save someone who holds my freedom and yours -" The grating sound of claws against the fencing was only a barrier away; the woman's, no, a teenage girl's face with large blue eyes narrowed through the chain link. The Darkness was like vines, squeezing his insides, but Emma had asked him to be better, to try and help her - 

"My freedom? You can grant me my freedom? And your own?" Wendy's shoulders fell slightly from their predator stance, and her tail flicked out like a snake by her side. 

Her unsure voice brought him forward, as he raised a hand to her in supplication. She sniffed, then sat as her tail twitched, taking a paw and delicately wiping away drool from her face. 

Killian took another tentative step forward, his voice low. "The Princess of the United Realms is up there, being prepared by Pann to go to the Goblin Prince. If she does, you stay here with Pann forever in his servitude... and I go to serve the Goblin Prince and his father, enabling them to bring Darkness everywhere they wish." Wendy's tail hit hard against the floor with a thwack, making him jump. He took a steadying breath. "I'm a prisoner as much as you are, I just have a bigger cage, or a longer leash. The princess needs to be freed. Help me."

"I will eat you if we lose, you know." The Sphinx surveyed him with feline amusement, tail quirked upwards and bent at the end, like a great question mark. 

He chuckled lightly. "I'm afraid I'd be bad for your digestive tract, as I won't die." 

He fell backwards from the rush of air as her paws swiped, shoulder searing in more pain against the rough floor. The suddenness of Wendy tearing apart the last barrier and looming in front of him had the Darkness screaming in his head to move quickly to kill her, to find something - 

"Go grab the sword over in the corner. It's broken, but it's better than nothing." Wendy nodded her head towards a pile of armor and broken weapons. He ran over and beneath another barrier, grabbed the pommel, and pulled it free. Running back to Wendy, she bowed to let him mount her back, and he settled above her wings uncomfortably. "Hey," she growled. "Any funny business, I eat you, so mind that blade." 

Her wings opened wide, steadying her, but she could not fly because of the pillars and strange ceiling piece located oddly in the space. Instead she climbed up the side, hopping here and there as Killian helped to untangle netting hidden amongst the rafters with the broken blade. 

They could hear Pann's voice as Wendy shrugged him off, setting Killian on a ledge that led to the back staircase he'd already come from once. He ran as quietly as possible through the darkened maze of boxes, up the staircase, waiting for Wendy's roar. 

When it came, he threw himself at Emma, pushing her aside. Wendy and Pann were struggling, Wendy giving a whine as she fell off of Pann, twitching slightly. Pann tossed a syringe at Killian’s feet, Wendy's body silent.

"It's not only for drinking," the Satyr sang merrily. "It also works as a potent injection!" 

_This is a lesson in following that silly girl's ideology. Friends are useless, as are disgusting beasts for allies. You're a coward and an idiot, my stupid, weak, fool of a vessel._ _Listen to me, and me alone. _

Wendy sat up gracefully, eyes hollow and with that same golden sheen that he had seen in Emma’s eyes. He heard Emma rustle behind him, standing in her dress. Pann clapped his hands, doing a strange jig on his hooves that made Killian sick. 

"Wendy, eat the Dark One when I signal you to. That will solve two problems at once; just make sure you tear him up good." Pann smiled, moving to let Wendy stalk towards Killian. “A Blackwater brat. Jones, that was your brother, eh? I was at the last battle when the Darkness was released, when you were just a puppet for it. I watched you kill all those innocent men. Your own brother even, all because you were in a fit over some woman. This seems a fair penance.” 

"You don't know anything about me, or my brother -"

"And I don't care if I ever do! You're almost not quite dead. Emma, come here, angel face." Emma trotted over and Pann smacked her on the ass roughly, her face contorting in disgust for a brief moment before returning to vacancy. 

"This is my real prize. I was exiled for fairy rings and the suspicion of eating children to maintain my youth. How ironic is it that King Dumbing and Queen D'Oh have their  _ pwecious wittle baby _ caught in one? Such just desserts!" 

Pann giggled again, making a signal with his hand. 

"Dammit, Princess!" Killian lunged down the stairs, Wendy snarling as she tried to fit through the doorframe. Picking up the blunted sword, he heard the Darkness screech at him. 

_ LET US TAKE OVER, LET US FIX THINGS. WE CAN GET THE DAGGER PIECE AND LEAVE - _

Killian skidded to a stop in front of the fuse box, broken sword in hand. Emma walked calmly toward him, eyes vacant, and the Darkness dug its talons into every place it could. 

_ DO NOT DISOBEY VESSEL! THIS, IT WILL HURT US - _

Killian grinned. "It's going to hurt alright, but I'm not going to give up my freedom just yet," he muttered, then jammed the broken sword into the center of the panel. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Floating in the golden river felt amazing, like pure sunshine soothing her skin. A voice told her to do things, made her feel sleepier, their commands like honeyed music lyrics that she twirled to. Some of them made sense, like standing or sitting, but some filled her with an unpleasant nausea the golden river had to scrub away, its waters briefly turbulent as she tried to find an invisible shoreline. 

"Attack him, throw him over the ledge," the voice sang, music in her veins, the beat wonderful as it rose through the soles of her feet. 

She threw someone, using all the force available to her. Killian, it was Killian - the music intensified over the sound of her teeth grinding from her jaw being so tight. Slowly it eased her back into relaxation, the voice talking about everything and nothing. Shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and - 

The King. Her father waited with her mother, and they had sent her, sent Emma to save them. Her shoulders spasmed as her toes curled, body going tight like a music box wound too tight; there was something, someone… 

The spasm stopped abruptly, and Emma took a breath as the voice whispered how good she was, how good it felt to behave, to listen. A vision appeared of her smiling happily on a throne as she watched a shadowy male figure speak. He gestured at her as crowds cheered, her head so blessedly empty and light she nearly floated over to him. His scaled arm gripped her waist, dark golden feathers protruding from an elbow. 

The feeling of part of her tensing happened again as she recoiled from the shade's touch. A moment later the shade was back in front of her buzzing like an angry hornet, demanding her to kneel, to obey it. Visions of how unpleasant it could be flooded her head, the despair of so many others an inescapable din as this shadow grew to try and swallow her. Even a deafening roar of some vicious and angry creature turned into a whimper in the presence of the shadow; it was all encompassing, hopeless. Her heart fell as the shadow grew to cover everything, the occasional pulse of gold with the beat of the music like spilled glitter in the murk. 

Wandering blindly, voices emerged that Emma strained to hear. 

"- I watched you kill all those innocent men. Your own brother even, all because you were in a fit over some woman. This seems a fair penance.” 

"You don't know anything about me, or my brother -"

Emma found herself stilling; she knew that voice, she was certain. Had there always been just the shadow and the golden song? Had she always been a Lost Girl? 

"And I don't care if I ever do! You're almost not quite dead. Emma, come here, angel face." 

The golden song pulled her forward, its simple command easy enough. A hand smacked her on the ass roughly, and that tension was back, snapping to life as the golden gloom fell away, Emma's face contorting in disgust for just the briefest second as her muscles went rigid. She held it as long as she could, dragging her fist down to her sides and locking her jaw. The song went on about fairy rings and just desserts with a giggle. There was a beat, then a roar shook the room. Emma panicked, there was a great animal in the gloom she could not see. If she just pushed that small light in her hands to attack the shadows that shrieked - 

Acuity came briefly, revealing the tanned and dusty backside of a great lion with wings - no, a Sphinx - 

"Dammit, Princess!"

His checked sports coat was discarded and blood was smeared across his face, making the hair plastered to his forehead and the fear in his eyes look a dark indigo shade. Killian, Killian was fighting because of Pann's trickery and she… 

The noise of the song broke over her, drowning her in the dark again, the music forcing her to walk in steps she did not want to take as it ground down on her. Every time she tried to toss it off, the crescendo pummeled her, dragging her down further and denying her oxygen. Her shoulders went tight as she spasmed from her legs through her back. She could see him now, a broken sword in his hands, raised above the electrical box. 

"I'm not going to give up my freedom just yet," he muttered, and then he brought the sword down.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

There was a thundering noise, true darkness swallowing them as the music stopped and surprise settled on the club goers. Killian had been flung, but was coughing and cursing a long list of deities as he frantically put out flames in his hair. Pann was yelling, the Sphinx continued her stalking of Killian as he remained unaware. 

"Emma," Pann whispered as she swayed slightly. "Emma, watch. The Dark One is going to be a Dark Snack!" he giggled. 

Killian slid underneath Wendy's pounce, barely missing her back claws, and full force tackled Emma, pushing her up onto his shoulder. Pann screamed in fury beside them, following them back up to the viewing room. Killian looked for any other escape routes, but besides the door they came from off the stairs and the balcony that Wendy was now pulling herself up on, there was none. 

"That's enough. Of that." Pann panted out as he reached the room. "I'm too old for these sprints and too young to be wasting time like this. Emma, feed him to Wendy."

Emma looked at Killian, and he smiled apologetically at her. 

"I'm not afraid to fight you, Swan," he said, quietly. 

"Lie, he is, he is! The truth is that he doesn't want to hurt you -" Wendy hissed, pacing on the edge of the balcony. There was no pulse in the air from the music, just stale silence that Emma listened to, finding her words. 

"Emma, baby doll, any day now please, I mean -" Pann began, but was stopped by Emma's wavering voice. 

"How… dare you," she started, and Pann went rigid, while Killian straightened in surprise. "How dare you… sp-speak to me… and t-treat me… like this?" 

White light glowed from her palms and up her arms, Killian backing away as the tendrils of her magic probed around the room. Wendy gave a startled gasp as one hit her, her fur going silky and eyes quickly pinpointed on Pann. Emma thrummed with light magic as Pann gazed on in fear. 

"You, Pann, are a coward." Emma’s voice was solemn, her intonation without emotion or feeling. Killian pushed himself as far to the wall as he could, the Darkness urging him to hide, to get away from her. Pann stood transfixed as she smiled. "You are a coward because you trap those who you say are lost, try to hold them and bend them to your will, and you believe it makes you stronger. It doesn't and never will. They will always find a way to release the chains of bondage. You deem them Lost as if you didn't pull them from their lives, and as if you aren't Lost as well. As if you, shepherd's guide, Pyotr Pann, aren't the most lost of them all. You've forgotten your way, Satyr.  _ You're _ the Lost One."

_ Get OUT, get out of here, HIDE -  _

The Darkness was a squeal, a whine that buzzed and shook Killian’s molars as light wrapped around Pann. Emma looked ethereal, eyes burning bright. Wendy examined her once scarred haunches to find no blemish remained and roared in triumph as she spread her long wings across the length of the room. 

"I am no prize, for you, Lost Boy," Emma whispered. 

It wasn't clear what happened next, but the glass partition shattered, and Wendy was bowing her blonde head, ringlets bouncing back. Emma turned to touch the Sphinx reverently. 

"Do with him as you will."

Wendy nodded, and another crash sounded from the staircase accompanied by a thin trail of smoke. The creature looked at Pann and back to Emma. 

"Princess, I have no use for truth in this world, as it only brings me pain. I give you this in my gratitude, knowing that you will use it far better than I." Magic the color of amber and honey swirled gently in the air. Wendy smiled, her face caught between woman and child. "Now you will know all truths from falsehoods. May it serve you well."

Smoke billowed from the staircase, as the acrid smell of burning metal and plastic rose through the air. Killian could see flames begin to lick the walls of the staircase, its banisters creaking. 

Emma nodded and stepped towards Killian as he flinched back, the Darkness taking full control as it forced him into a far corner. As Wendy gave a roar that shook the floorboards and made the light bulbs crack, his eyes darted to Pann against the Darkness' pull. Wendy stood before Pann, a paw raised, and swiped. 

Pann flew through the window of the office, the broken pieces of glass catching in the rainbow colors of the disco lights, each piece a tinted jewel. Emma's power flowed through her in a white flame, hair rippling in incandescent heat as Pann’s influence fell away from the club. The ripples of her magic shot through the smoky air, turning the glass into bright dust that fell on the club goers like snow. The color from the lights gave it the appearance of being green, blue, pink, and gold as it settled. The crowd cheered, oblivious to what was actually happening. 

The satyr landed with a skidding thud in the DJ booth, the force of his descent knocking the record askew and flipping it in the air. Pann stood slowly after several attempts, the spotlight that flickered from the explosion of Emma's attack painting him a sickly green as the club turned to look in his direction, whispers sounding where EDM music once blasted. 

The DJ, a pointed eared and sharp toothed blonde beauty that wore a slip of a glittery green dress smiled her wide grin. 

“Well well well, now, Pann. Look what the cat dragged in." 

There was chaos as thralls swarmed and fled, some crumbling to dust with relieved sighs, others fleeing in their outdated garments. The fire reached the entrance door with another explosion, lighting the Lost Boy and his golden drink into flame, blocking the entrance as people tried to double back, smoke everywhere. Wendy forced a shoulder against a crumbling wall as starlight rushed in and people, creatures, and Fae greeted the night sky once more. 

Emma's magic had long since fizzled as she looked on, standing at the edge of the balcony and watching the crowds disperse through the cracked glass. Smoke filled the room behind her, heat growing as the walls began to splinter. 

"I need to move," Killian hissed at the Darkness as it pulled at his muscles and tendons like a harpsichord. 

_ Get away, get OUT, but STAY AWAY from her. _

Killian finally found the will to move his legs, the Darkness painful but manageable as it loosened its control. "Emma, we have to go!" 

Emma turned and looked at him blankly, a deep tiredness settling over her features as she swayed. 

_ NO, don't touch her, DON'T - _

She fell forward, and he caught her as she mumbled a slurred apology. The Darkness snarled, but nothing happened as far as Killian could see or feel, and he looked for an escape. Killian whistled, Wendy looking up as she flew in circles over the emptying dance floor and rising smoke, gliding towards them. Grabbing onto her fur, they soared out of the viewing room, and Wendy roughly deposited them into the rubble with a few stragglers climbing through. 

Wendy bowed solemnly and addressed Killian as he struggled to ease a confused and dazed Emma down from the Sphinx's back. Wendy coughed, flapping her wings to clear the air. 

"I cannot come to your aid any further, my friends. I have my own matters to attend to. In your time of need, however, I will make haste to fight by your side." Bowing low, Wendy turned. "Goodbye." 

Killian helped Emma navigate the broken wall up and out to an alleyway, where people milled about in various states of shock and amusement. Emma giggled in his arms, barely conscious but also, and more annoyingly, drunk - Pann's draught finally catching up to her. They pushed through the crowd, and Killian had never been more grateful for Emma's light magic healing them, even at the expense of the Darkness' fury. 

“The special effects were amazing, that Sphinx thing with wings, I mean -”

“ - I knew the place was legit, but holy shit -”

“Did you see that dude with hooves? A nod to gluttony maybe, and mass consumption in a world out of touch with nature -”

"I think I saw Jefferson Airplane, how cool!" 

“ - the Heavy Water Light Show doesn't even hold a candle -”

“ - and those dancers from all different time periods, I mean who designed this event? Do you think it was Warhol? I want them at my next party, even with the fire -”

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

If there was one thing the Darkness hated more than anything else, it was losing. It had lost, another plan ruined by the silly, spoiled, pompous -

“Wait! Waaa… Waaaytaminnit…” Emma slurred with a stumble. She caught herself on the brick wall of the alleyway, reaching out to him. “I feeeel...I feel… jussssst a little little little bit dizzy...” she giggled. 

\-  _ drunk _ princess. Hiding away, the Darkness licked its wounds. The princess had burned it, swept it to the far corners of its host. The plan had been perfect: to make a deal with the Satyr, the princess to stay in his collection for his own nefarious purposes, and to bargain with the Goblins for her. A pretty golden treat and reward. Pann just had to force her to hand over the shard. 

How could it predict her magic being so strong, or that his host would ignore its commands?

It was weak. The damned Satyr was weak. Its host was weak. 

Killian sighed, walking to her and holding her body upright. “Have you never been drunk before?” 

“Nope!” She hiccuped, clinging to Killian’s arm. “Wine, sometimes, maybe tipsy. This is… worse.”

The Darkness seethed at their contact, frustrated that it had been stopped from its goal. It also felt one of the few emotions it could feel, hating the way it circled its being.  _ Fear. _

The princess had powerful magic, powerful  _ light _ magic. Time was running out for her, which meant time was running out for it to achieve freedom, to return to its dark glory, and for his host to be controlled only by the dark whispers it gave.

The Darkness was not fond of being ignored or pushed away, and the greater sin of this light magic was his host’s clarity, his sudden refusals and simpering morality returning. When they’d first met, his host had been full of anger, fear, anguish - a perfect environment to thrive in. The Darkness had settled easily, the man underneath realizing too late the curse he had wrought. 

Now… He heard whispers of a long buried voice. That was a problem.  _ The princess _ was a problem. The Darkness planned in its shadows silently, waiting and watching. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Killian watched the thralls escaping the now burning building, smoke rising into the night sky as he held Emma's form. Her face was flushed, her dress that revealed the tops of her breasts matching the color in her cheeks as he turned them from the chaos. She clung to his arm, whatever drink she’d downed taking a heavy toll on her mind now that Pann was gone.

He let out a breath and looked up, trying not to examine her frame any further. The night sky looked brighter, he noticed. The stars that had guided him for years were closer to diamonds than ever, littering the sky in chase of each other. 

“Liam… Liiiiam taugh’ me the name.” Emma wobbled, pressing into him. Her head lolled as she whispered against his chin. “The stars!” She made a wave of her hand and almost fell forward, his hand clasping hers as he pulled her against his chest. “His fave, Scutum. Mine, Cygnus. There.” She spun against his chest to point to the constellation.

“How did you know that?” he whispered, looking down at the lazy crooked smile she wore. 

“I toldya, he told me. He liked it becaaaaause, it was a shield, like him.” She reached up and touched his nose. “Boop.” 

Despite himself, he smiled. “You're going to be impossible to get back to Ingrid's.” Leaving the alleyway, he flagged down a taxi.

“My girl and I are trying to get away from this fire, we have a vacation house up on the hills. Can you give us a lift?” Killian smiled, his tone and face laced with charm, and the taxi driver obliged. They climbed the hills as Killian kept Emma busy, pointing out more constellations and doing anything he could for her to keep her mouth shut. He didn't need her explaining that they'd blown up a bar by way of magic and a giant winged lion.

They drove by an unlit home, Killian telling the driver to circle back to the long drive to the house. He gave the driver a huge wad of bills, watching him pull away. A flick of the wrist and they were inside the picturesque mountain mansion. Cyprus trees waved through full length windows, the smell of lemon from a nearby grove wafting in the warm air. 

Emma stumbled to a couch with a groan, taking off the high heels Elsa had given her to borrow. 

“Freedom!” she laughed, staring at him with an ear to ear grin. He shook his head and scoped out blankets.

“There's a bedroom over here, should you need it, Princess.” He pointed to a door but she shook her head no while patting the couch. 

“ 'S fine. I can sleep anywhere. I used ‘ta hide in the library, trying to scare my nannies. I always fell asleep.” She stretched lazily, the window behind her casting moonbeams on her skin. He could see the goose flesh rising where it touched, and it made him swallow hard, his own mind hazy. Killian walked to her, bending to give her a comforter and pillow. Her hand caught the lapels of his jacket, threading between them and pulling him close as he held his breath. He closed his eyes, the tips of her fingers running along his jaw freezing him in place. 

Emma began tracing his features so sweetly, gentle petal soft touches he leaned into. “I toldya you could be good.” His eyes shot open, the Darkness blessedly absent for a short moment. The moon lit her eyes the color of the kelp on the shore, flecked with splinters of sunlit cliffs, and seafoam capped waves. The color of home. “I think… I think you  _ are _ good deep down, somewhere I can sometimes see. I like that; I wish you were always this gentle, this kind, this good with me. Thank you.” 

Lips pressed against his, warm and timid, letting him lead the tempo as he crawled over her body. She was drunk, but her mouth was so absolutely intoxicating that he felt drunk as well, the world spinning too fast but her tentative touch too slow for it to burn him like this. He turned his head to the side to deepen the kiss, and her reaction was immediate, a low moan catching in her throat as her tongue joined his in a dance. 

The Darkness barked a laugh, breaking him away from her, breathing heavily over her half lidded gaze and swollen lips.

_ Taking advantage of a drunken princess mere weeks after confirming your ‘twue love’ is dead? Classy, Dearie.  _

“I’m sorry.” He stood abruptly, backing away from Emma, her sigh of contentedness quickly turning into steady breaths of sleep. 

Killian fled to a bedroom, locking himself inside. He sat on the edge of the bed, unable to sleep as he pressed his fingers to his lips, unable to clear her from his mind.   
  
“That was a one time thing,” he whispered to no one, again and again.

_ Sure it was.  _

The Darkness in him crawled under his skin, feeding on his fear. Killian fell back into its embrace without hesitation, finally allowing himself to be free of any thoughts but his revenge. 

“For Milah.” 

_Yes,_ _for Milah_.

  
  


*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma awoke with a pounding headache, bombarded by the beginning of light streaming in large windows she didn't recognize. The walls of the abode were shockingly white, immediately assailing her senses, the smell of citrus in the gentle breeze uncomfortable as she stumbled to a washroom loudly enough to wake the dead. Retching into the huge porcelain basin that looked as if it could fit four adults instead of one, she tried to piece together what the hell was going on. 

Killian chuckled lowly, and she glanced sideways to see his profile leaning against the door frame before emptying her stomach into the tub with a moan. She heard him give a disgusted huff of annoyance, and wished for the strength to throttle him. 

"Have I been poisoned?" she rasped, and he chuckled again, but it was without any amusement. 

"In a manner of speaking, yes." Moving into her line of vision to lean against the vanity, he appraised her with disdain. "You’re a mess."

Grunting, she turned on the water, coughing as she laid her head back against the cool smoothness of the tub's edge. "Screw you. Where are we?" 

He arched an eyebrow crossing his arms, one hand moving to scratch behind his ear. "We're in someone's home, commandeering it for a bit because of the disturbance you caused last night." His eyes flicked towards her, and she narrowed her own. "What all do you remember?" 

"Enough to know that I wasn't the only one who caused a disturbance. I saved your ass!" Her voice rose, and she moved to get up before realizing that was a poor choice with a groan. "I feel like I'm being turned inside out. What is happening?" 

Picking at his fingernails with the same self righteous smirk, he spoke in a mock soothing tone, as if she was a small child. 

"Well this, Princess, is a hangover. You may have been drinking Pann's jungle juice, but it's still heavy on the alcohol on top of the magic mind control. You got sloshed on the stuff. Drunk like some -" 

Her voice interrupted him with incredulity. 

"And you," she whispered softly, "brought me back here, safe, and made sure I was alright?" 

_ Oh, we did more than make sure. Tell her vessel; tell her about the lewd thoughts and what you wanted. That should make her sober up or start puking once more!  _

The Darkness cackled at its remarks as he tensed, and gritted his teeth. "Aye."

Emma let herself breathe a small sigh of surprise, and gratitude. "Thank you."

Something rattled in his chest as she felt pink bloom on the apples of her cheeks. They were both silent for a moment before Killian cleared his throat. 

"So. Breakfast. How do you feel about pancakes?" 

Emma felt her stomach turn over, the feeling of sickness washing back up into her mouth. 

"We're not there yet," she said quickly, before turning back to the faucet and its steady stream of water, getting sick again. 

After what felt like hours, Emma took a shower in another of the huge home's bathrooms, unwilling to do so in the unfortunate place she'd spilled the contents of her stomach earlier, even after a thorough cleaning. Instead of pancakes, they found a large slab of cured ham in the larder, along with several wheels of cheese. It would have been better with bread, but they made do with it, Emma's stomach allowing the food even with slight resistance. 

"I cannot wait to get back. I want to bury myself in dough and frosting," she told Killian as they tidied up what they could of their obvious stay. He rolled his eyes at that, but had been in a strange mood with her; his normal irritation was laced with playfulness and a softness she had never seen afforded to her. He had made her breakfast from their findings, simple ham with melted cheese, insisting that he knew which of the wheels and which herbs would taste best while not upsetting her stomach further, and had been much less brooding. 

More strangely, he did this from a sizable distance, after their conversation in the bathroom in the earlier part of the morning. It was as if he only found her tolerable at a radius of several feet from him. Did the pilfered soap upset his own sensibilities? She didn't have time to ask as he rambled on about their success with Pann, filling in many of the missing pieces of her memory. 

"I'm curious though, what all do you remember?" He asked, and she was aware of a question underneath that he didn't speak. Did something happen? 

Emma thought back, cautiously wording what she said. "I remember being underwater, drowning in gold, Pann's commands, his fall, and you helping me get here. Did something else happen?" 

"No." Killian said quickly, and Wendy's magic made her pause. It was as if something gently pulled at her, a feeling in her gut of wrongness coupled with a sensation of knowing it was a lie. He cleared his throat, and shook his head. "No. You were just extremely drunk which made you even more obstinate than usual."

"I see. I do remember how much magic was in the room, how powerful everything felt. That's really the only thing that is clear. I'm sure more will come back to me if I think on it."

"We should get going soon, it will be noon before we get back, and even on a slow day like today -" 

"You don't want Ingrid to worry. That's so sweet." Emma teased, and he couldn't manage a scowl, only a slightly irritated upturn of his lips. "See, I'm right! Don't deny it -" 

"We barely survived the wrath of a Sphinx, and a Satyr. They say third time's the charm, and it would give Ingrid the utmost satisfaction to be a means to my end." A twinkle of mischief lit his eyes and Emma laughed out loud before she could help herself. 

"She did say she needs a new throw rug." Emma giggled into a coffee mug with a sideways glance. "We could take turns beating you." 

"Fresh off a victory and cocky, hm? We'll see how you fair when you tell them you chucked me off a balcony to fall several stories for a sphinx to eat." He pulled the mug from her hands, despite her protests, and she gave a playful glare in his direction. 

"I suppose I can accept an accolade for knocking sense into you, even if it is before supper." She kept her tone thoughtful as if actually musing, and he sputtered into the mug with a choked laugh. 

  
  


*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Killian sped them around several locations before they landed in the village, walking down the cobblestone towards the Arendelle shop. They had made good time in their arrival, an hour or so before noontime when the village was still sleepy and still. The princess murmured incessantly about their arrival, about what they should say and how the other women would react to their tale and close call. Her voice didn't grate at him as it usually did, but there was an odd sound in the stillness that made him feel uneasy. As they drew closer, he finally could place what was wrong: the constant hum of the ovens and mixing machines that accompanied the shop were silent. 

Had they not opened? That would be completely bizarre; even if they were worried, they would still be baking, possibly more so because of worry. A muffled whimper set his teeth on edge. 

Emma looked at him, sense enough to stop chattering but not enough to not question. "What's wro-" 

"Be quiet!" Killian snapped suddenly, covering her mouth. Emma made a noise of protest, but it died in her throat when the squawk of another voice reached her ears. 

"Where is the Princess? Tell me!" 

Killian pulled them into an alley, moving them towards the side of the shop's shed, ducking behind a rusting plow and other tools. In the dim light of the storefront, it was difficult to make out the shapes of the group inside. Feathers caught the slight slant of overcast daylight, a taloned hand lifting Ingrid's chin as she knelt between Elsa and Anna. 

Looking to Killian, Emma pulled open her bag where her sword lay hidden while he lifted an old cutlass from the shed’s pile. The princess was remarkably sneaky and quiet, watching as he picked the lock to the delivery door. The voices were louder now, just on the other side of the truck bay. 

"We don't know, we honestly don't know -" 

"Well, think about where the may have gone!" the bird Goblin squawked in clear agitation. He paced, pointing to a bulging eyed, antlered, rabbit eared Goblin who approached with a raised axe. "Or else I'm trimming your trio down to two." 

With a quick touch of his lips to her hand and a nod of his head, Emma and Killian sprung into action. 

Of course they had practice sparred, but watching her cut through the Goblins with a fury and brutalism that mirrored his own was akin to dancing. She moved to the negative spaces he had just been in deadly defense, as he played aggressor, until they switched and her perfectly executed parry forced a Goblin to skewer one of his own while Killian gouged a hole into his side. 

Their synchronicity was stunning to him, her magic aiding where his uncontrollable waves of the Darkness ended. It freed Ingrid, Anna, and Elsa while he held off another oncoming wave of cobbled together monsters. 

The house was in shambles, a fire started in the main living area had now engulfed the bedrooms and had begun to race towards where they fought in the shop front. Ingrid shot through the flames, uncaring, not listening to Anna and Elsa's pleas. Emma turned her head distracted and fumbled slightly, pinned for a moment in which Killian felt an unfamiliar part of himself go deathly cold. He made a wide arc, throwing himself towards her and barreling into the hawk beaked Goblin that had his metal scraping against her steel, watching the creature go flying into the smoke with a bird like squawk. 

Offering his hand, he lifted her to her feet, yelling over the commotion.

"Are you alright, love?"

She started to say something, but instead threw herself against his side roughly, sliding to slash a Goblin from neck to navel. 

"Fine, just fine!" she shouted back, and he couldn't help but laugh as he continued their assault. Emma's hand grabbed him, and she pointed to the wall of flame. "Ingrid! Go get Ingrid! I've got this."

In the flames Emma’s eyes were almost yellow, a cat's or night predator without fear. There was a pull, low in his belly that was so similar to when they had kissed, a sense of want, pride, and longing that he didn't understand. He resigned to settle it later when they were all safe, and Emma was alone with him again. Giving her own arm a gentle squeeze, he ran towards where Elsa and Anna were trying to battle flames along with Goblin attackers. 

Anna's voice was shrill and hysterical as she pointed through the smoke. "Killian, Killian she went in there minutes ago. It’s too hot even with my magic -" 

Throwing her his cutlass, he ran through the wall of flame, running up the crumbling stairs yelling for Ingrid. There was no sign of the older woman, the upper floor almost unrecognizable to his gaze. Nemo's study had caved in, the roof giving way to morning sky that let heat warped sunshine through in a surrealistic sight. The floor was splintering, and there was no noise but the crackling and pops of fire on wood as he strained to hear. 

A weak cough caught his attention, and he shouldered through where a ceiling beam had pushed the door to Elsa's room almost closed. Ingrid's hand came from under the bed, a bag clutched in it of what she must have been grabbing. Picking it up, he recognized portraits of their family, and what must be treasured mementos of hers, so precious the woman was willing to risk her life for.

Pulling Ingrid out and up on his shoulders while clutching the bag, Killian kicked down the stuck door, the room crumbling behind them with a crash, and ungracefully jumped down the jagged remains of the staircase. Ingrid groaned and coughed, but did not chastise, his worry catapulting into terror. 

Breaking through the smoke, he gave Ingrid to Elsa and a blood soaked Anna, Emma covered in thick Goblin blood of different colors as she tried to push back the ten or so that remained. 

Emma glanced back to him, relief flooding her face at their return until she saw Ingrid's condition. Handing her blade to Killian and rushing to Ingrid's side, she began to heal the blisters and burns, soothing the woman's lungs. Elsa picked up a disused Goblin blade, the iron hilt wrapped in cloth, and Killian led the charge through the last line of attackers. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Goblin with the hawk like beak come up behind Elsa, and time slowed as he tried to get to her, tried to warn her while he carved a path in frantic fear. Anna was yelling too, and he could hear her desperate movement as Elsa turned to see the Goblin advance. Killian was so close he could hear its beak clicking before it let out its screech, the blade in its hand driving through Elsa's back. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

## 

Elsa felt the blade, feeling an eerie calmness wash over her as she stood where Anna and Killian were rushing to. She could see the point of it protruding from her chest, felt sick and faint at her heart’s strange contractions as it was pulled back and slid out, only to plunge in again, taking her breath away. The second time when the blade was pulled clean, a foot kicked her spine. Falling was easy, the wet wooden floor of the shop comforting as it caught her. There was no noise now, screams of rage, pain, and anguish giving way into the sound of her body preparing itself to fade into silence. 

Elsa felt the warmth of a body next to hers, the push of hands to turn her over, and the noise slammed into her as her upturned chest rattled with the taste of rusty wet. Anna wailed beside her head, Emma and Ingrid holding the younger woman in an attempt at comfort. Elsa reached a hand to her, and felt how heavy her limbs were. She pushed away the shock to stay in this last moment with her family as long as she could. A cool hand joined her on the other side, and blue eyes were filled with panic as Killian yelled at Emma to heal her, to do something; that he should have killed the Goblin while he had the chance before. 

When she looked closer at his face, cold and grim, she could tell he knew Emma had no chance of fixing this. Emma could only shake her head and whisper that she was sorry, so sorry, over sudden tears turning into sobs.

The Darkness swirled around Killian like some type of agitated, thorned vine that constricted around his being. Elsa could see it now, mused quietly at how easy it was to see. How had she missed it? It dwarfed his mass, bent him and broke him in ways that hurt her eyes. 

She suddenly felt tired, all the way to her marrow. Closing her eyes, she let the coldness that was seeping in start its tugging. Its insistent pulls became more frequent, her time running out. 

“You… You all have to go. Run… Leave. You can’t -” Her chest ached, rattling and trying to keep air in her shriveling lungs. “I’m not… No help. Run.” 

Ingrid let out a choked sob, reaching forward to stroke her hair. The white blonde strands were streaked and sticky with red. Elsa opened her eyes, and was shocked to see two pairs of blue eyes looking at her. Killian’s were dark, tormented, and glassy. The other pair twinkled with long felt adoration, the look of a man who finally returned home.

“Hello, Ice Queen. It’s been a while.” He smiled, and looked around at the small party surrounding her. His voice was the only one she could focus on clearly. “I’ve missed you, love.”

Elsa’s body felt like it was full of wet sand, frozen by cold water that crashed against her in waves. Smiling slowly through the frost that was making her sluggish, with Liam’s palm warm against her cheek, she pulled her hand away from Killian’s to reach for Liam’s form. In dreams she could never hold him, he slipped through her fingers like wind or water through a sieve. Here, though, as her hand pressed against his chest while he kneeled, she felt his solidity. There were no words for the peace she felt.

“He says…” Happiness bloomed on her face, as the ice faded into weightless warmth. Taking a deep breath of air, she let her eyes close. “Liam says… I should have waited… Waiting never bothered him."

Killian’s voice was broken, and cracked. "No. He would have waited for you forever." 

Elsa let out a soft sigh, opening her eyes to look at Killian, and then just behind him. They dulled as she spoke in a strained whisper, Liam’s hands firm as they pulled her into his arms. 

“I've waited long enough.”

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Elsa left Killian, left her sister, aunt, and the useless princess that could do nothing more than shake her head instead of healing Elsa. She had frozen, had not done anything but shake and look at the blood that flooded the ground in time with what had been a heartbeat. The ache he felt in his own chest was a hungry type of hurt that the Darkness begged him to feed, already filling the space where their friendship had been with anger, vengeance, hatred, and wrath. Throwing things together while the shop and house crumbled around them, he watched Ingrid tell the princess and Anna to leave Elsa's body in the flames, to move, and to flee this place before more tragedy could be wrought. 

Emma seemed to move stiffly, as if she was half asleep, and the Darkness cackled ever louder as the group wound their way to Kristoff's. The blonde man looked bedraggled as he listened to Anna frantically explain the situation, but was quick to prepare a magic sled of supplies for the remaining Arendelles and himself. 

_ I warned you, didn't I? I warned you someone would be hurt. And right after you thought you had feelings for the person who killed her, the reason for everything wrong in your miserable life!  _

"Where will you go? Will you be safe? Oh, Ingrid, I -" Emma choked out. Ingrid hugged her tightly and kissed her soot covered forehead. 

"Home has luckily always been where my heart is, and my heart belongs with my family. We'll be okay, and so must you be. I want to see you again, Emma. Take care of him. Take care of you. You can do this."

_ She can't take care of her royal self! Stupid old hag, do you see now that relying on this idea of family has made you weak? You're pitiful, you are so disgustingly lacking in any modicum of strength. Let me help you, let us work together.  _

Emma nodded, while Killian gave an angry bark of laughter. Before he could speak, Anna was talking. "Elsa loved you like another sister, and so do I. No one blames you, Emma. If they do, they're wrong." Anna's eyes shot to Killian’s face, and he glared. "We will see you again. We love you."

"I'm so sorry. I -" 

"Be brave, Emma. That's -" Anna's voice cracked, and she squeezed Emma's hands tightly. "That's what she would want for you."

_ Their love can't bring Liam back, or Milah, or Elsa; all those men you killed, all the innocent people the Goblins killed using you as their weapon. The princess owes you a blood debt for every single name that lies on your list. She's yours, she's yours to take, use, abuse as you see fit. She deserves it.  _

Emma and Anna embraced tightly, and then the Arendelles took their seats. Kristoff gave a nod, cracked the reins, and they disappeared into the night on an icy path carved by the magic of the sleigh. When they were gone, Killian jerked her harshly towards the woods where they walked for hours, Emma silent the entire way. She looked shell-shocked, merely hanging on by a thread. 

_ That's it. Make her highness keep up the pace, let her obedient mouth stay shut before we show her what obedience means. Let her challenge you again, and she will find out what a pretty bargaining chip she is - and nothing more.  _

Killian caught himself casting sideways glances her way, noticing how the color was gone from her cheeks, how she held herself tighter under the shawl Ingrid had given her, and refused to eat the bread they’d grabbed before parting ways. 

When she cried under her blankets, he actually felt pity for her. The Darkness scoffed at him, its hatred for her only continually increasing. 

_ She’s a whiny brat. So what if she’s never seen someone die, especially someone she cared for? Everyone has a first. It’s about time her majesty got a taste of what her family doles out. Punish her! Do it!  _

### 

The whispered retort was louder, shakily more confident now against the roar of the Darkness. It chanted back a strong reply in time with his heartbeat. 

_ It was Elsa.It was Elsa.It was Elsa.It was Elsa.  _

Elsa wasn't just someone they cared about. Elsa was family. 

Emma's cries continued in her sleep, and the Darkness became annoyed, begging Killian to shut her up. He went to shake her awake, but when he heard her whimper Elsa’s name, stopped short. The Darkness clawed at the insides of his skin as he laid down next to her, careful not to wake her, and held her gently. 

_ What are you doing? You complete fool, you harebrained cretin, give me control, give me back the reins of my vessel, you are incompetence embodied - _

When the Darkness growled ferally, Killian pushed it with all of his might, caging it for the moment. When to his surprise it didn't claw back at him, he let himself relax slightly. He hummed softly, listening to Emma’s breathing relax as she rested. He closed his eyes, wishing he could dream with her, his own body relaxing as he fell away. Light magic touched him gently, as quiet as a spring breeze. 

He woke up after a dreamless sleep, sun breaking and the Darkness crowing with irritation and anger. He’d slept. He’d actually slept. She stirred next to him, lightly snoring, before curling to reach for him. He pulled away, heart pounding in his chest as he went to the nearby stream to wash his face. 

The crack of a branch had him raising his sword, the blade touching the cheek of the Goblin Prince, a small trickle of brown falling on his blade from the knick. The Prince raised his hands in supplication, pointing to the very tiny portal behind him. 

“I mean no harm. I've spared no lack of Elven magic just so I could come to -”

“To offer a deal? Fuck straight off to the second star, mate,” Killian hissed and to his surprise, the Goblin chuckled. With a sickening feeling, he realized why Nil disarmed him so easily - his smile and laugh were reminiscent of Milah. 

“My mother talked about you non stop, you know. My father says that in the end that's what killed her, bearing another man's child. He loved her fiercely but all she wanted was to escape back to you and -”

“Your father stole her and raped her. Don't you dare to romanticize the circumstances of your birth. It's disgusting what you do, how you spurn your own women, make them raise children they are refused, or force them to be laborers.”

Nil cocked his head contemplatively. “These are the old ways, ones that make us strong. Don't tell me that my Future Queen has convinced you otherwise with her radical beliefs; even her parents are opposed to such disregard for the covenants and doctrines that -”

“I believe that every single creature is entitled to love who they choose to, without law or society spitting on them, as long as it is consensual and appropriate. The separation of realms is creating pockets of horror for those who truly want to be free.”

“Oh? And what do you know about freedom, Dark One? They'll never free you.  _ She'll _ never free you. Not with the potential of what you might do over the realms and this world.” Nil stared at him, smiling broadly when Killian felt his jaw tighten. “You know it's true. I have a… deal to propose to you. I think you will enjoy it.”

“Whatever it is, I repeat, bugger off. Your men killed my sister-in-law -”

“I am sorry for that. I wasn't aware Liam was married, and if we had known… regardless. Give me my Future Queen, and we will hold the dagger, but build this world you seek, that she seeks. Honor Moth- Milah and your brother's sacrifices, honor Elsa’s sacrifice for her family to live in this world, free those in secret chains like yourself. Be the Delivering One, instead of The Dark One. Wield your power, taste your revenge.”

The Darkness in him shuddered in ecstasy at the thought, threads of it warming his blood in pleasure. 

“There's no way I can trust you or your word, let alone your father's,” Killian hissed, the Darkness speaking for him. 

“Fair enough. You can't trust your companion either, no matter how lovely or kind she seems. My offer stands. Bring her to the Selkie’s cave in Oregon - Seal Rock - that’s in the United States. I'll be waiting there for you to bring me my bride.” Nil smirked, stepping back towards his men with a turn that swirled his feather and fur cloak. “Oh. And should you have any thoughts about the princess or need to coerce her, please don't damage the goods too terribly much.” 

His laughter echoed away, until Killian heard the sound of the portal closing and he returned to Emma's side. She was dozing fitfully again, her thrashing a personification of the Darkness roiling inside of himself currently. When he laid next to her, she stilled, breathing going even and quiet. 

Honor Milah. He could raze the lands in her name, put Snow and her wretched husband away in the same dungeon he sat in as she died. Emma could go on to be… to be treated just like Gold had taught Nil to treat their stolen brides. 

_ Doesn't the perfect, preening, precious daughter of the ones who locked you away deserve it? Doesn't she deserve the same torture that her family let others suffer through; is it not a fitting punishment?  _

Glancing down at her, Killian felt the weight of the decision and the familiar pull of Darkness. Could he really abandon Emma to a fate that had claimed Milah’s life? 

_ Yes, _ the Darkness said without hesitation.  _ Yes, a thousand times yes _ . 

_ “Maybe _ ,” Killian whispered, and he heard the howl of the void inside him like the shriek of a storm. Emma only kept steadily breathing in her fitful dreams, as Killian found himself once more unable to join her. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma listened to Nil and Killian talk, pretending to be asleep until Killian left her side to get more wood for a fire. He was talking to that thing now, more than she had ever seen him do at Ingrid's. Sometimes she swore she heard its answer; its dry, but oily, wet voice like the sound of teeth scraping against bone and viscera. Several times she shuddered, her throat tight at the idea of that thing in her head, of being left to Nil, of Milah's fate becoming her own. If Killian noticed, he said nothing. She thrashed slightly to make her revulsion read as only another nightmare, which was realistic enough. 

When he had ventured far enough away, Emma let herself consider her options. 

With a snort of derision and angry tears burning her eyes, she realized she had none directly. Killian was falling deeper into his own hatred, and she was a part of that hatred. Could she say with certainty that he would not betray her? Emma wanted desperately to believe he wouldn't, his friendship one of the last solid pieces in this uncharted territory, if calling their forced alliance “friendship” was not a stretch. 

But then again - she did have new friends. The plan that bloomed in her mind was slipshod, but it would allow her surety, and some relief. 

That is, if it went right. 

So Emma decided to start searching for her newfound friends. Finding Alice and Cheshire (Robyn, she introduced herself politely) was relatively easy since they were already looking for her. Alice was not pure Fae, a human witch and Elf/Fae father giving her a… bizarre set of powers. 

"So… You just know?" 

"I feel it in my nose, first, like a sneeze coming on. Robyn's been a life saver with her planning," Alice smiled with a blush, squeezing Robyn's hand. Robyn gave her a wide grin, her beaming smile betraying the reason for her nickname, Cheshire. "Before her I would have never thought to have bags ready to go or pre-packed meals. I just sorta winged it." 

Killian was still off somewhere, most likely weighing his own options, and Emma couldn't have been more grateful in this one instance that he was nowhere near them. When Alice and Cheshire (now answering to Robyn) appeared from thin air, Emma was so surprised that she called out his name to only have silence answer. 

Emma nodded, still too surprised to take this in. "And then you, just… I guess, appear?" 

"Usually. Sometimes I do end up a ways from where I'm supposed to be, but Robyn can trace where I am supposed to be easily. It's getting back that's the hard part most of the time. " 

"We get a one way ticket, so navigating back from Japan or Australia, or another realm - it isn't easy. It takes years to get back sometimes. Time’s wonky between realms, and sometimes you have to steal a food truck -" Emma's look of confused shock sent both of them into peals of laughter.

"It's a strange life, but I wouldn't trade it for the world." Robyn wiped tears from her eyes with her sleeve, and kissed Alice with a giggle. "Although the criteria of 'where she needs to be' does have its quirks. Her poofing to my side when I was sad is good, but her poofing to a store in China for the best batch of Mandarin orange marmalade at the Mandarin Orange festival - yeah, that was an interesting one."

"It was where I needed to be!" Alice laughed. "It's the same quirky power that found you, so don't knock it." 

"I know. You'll always find me, and always be stuck with me. That's where you are supposed to be first and foremost and forever." Robyn kissed her knuckles, and Alice laid her head on Robyn's shoulder. 

"We're totally 'free love' forgetting to tell her why we came, babe." Alice looked up at Robyn, and she reacted quickly. 

"Oh right! I have an old friend who may be able to help," Robyn had begun. “She was supposedly kind of a legend back in the day, way back, for being an enchanted arms and dark magic dealer -" 

"But then she was cursed!" Alice interjected excitedly. 

"Yes, then she was cursed and -" Robyn tried again, only to be drowned out by Alice once more. 

"She's ashamed of what she looks like, and her old ways. If you can help her -" 

Emma blanched, clutching her chest. "I could help her? How would I help her do… anything?" 

Both Robyn and Alice shrugged. "Maybe you can, but if not, we'll just talk. See if she has any ideas. She's brilliant and very well read."

Emma mulled over their words. By sunset she'd made her decision. She would go with them, but on one condition. Killian had to answer a question for her first. 

He returned shortly after midnight, the moon gone dark in the sky, making everything drip with shadows. Emma shivered as he stalked near her, dropping a late stack of wood. 

"You couldn't even start a fire? Seriously?" Killian snapped, setting up the logs as Emma watched. "Did they not have time to teach you how, between all the hair braiding and tiara polishing?" 

Emma sighed deeply. "Killian, we need to talk." 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Despite his bravado, his swagger, and his purposeful litany of lewd remarks, Killian had no experience with the bad portion of relationships with women he wasn't sleeping with or not in his family. Families fought, lovers fought, and they fought about private things in private that were their private secrets. 'We need to talk' still made him nervous. 

"We do, do we? What about, love?" 

"I asked you before, promise that you won't let that thing take over you, that you won't let it master you when you have control. You told me, 'For now you want to be free, and I will not find freedom within the Darkness." Emma straightened her back and looked straight through him. "Tell me the truth, Killian Jones. Would you betray me? I ask again of you: do you promise that you won't let that thing take over or control you?" 

"It's not that easy of an answer, Princess -" 

"Yes," Emma said in a gravely calm voice. "It is."

"You're not being controlled by it, by it speaking in your mind, and controlling your body!" he spat, the Darkness already beginning its buzzing whine. "It's not a simple yes or no -" 

"Would you betray me?" she asked again coolly. Killian screamed at the sky, pacing before turning back to her. 

"No, I wouldn't."

Emma looked at him dead on, her eyes slitted. 

"I ask of you again, swear on your brother, swear on  _ Elsa _ , that  _ you _ will not betray me. You say you are not the Darkness, and now I need you to prove it. Swear to me that you will not betray me." Raising her chin, she crossed her arms. He was reminded all too much of the royal court, of the silky voices that carried immense gravity in every proclamation. 

It made him sick. 

The Darkness bubbled up, overflowing and he wasn't in control at all, not in any way. It didn't matter though, truly. They were in agreement, his demon as ready as him to strike. 

"You ask me to swear it on Liam, my brother, and Elsa, neither given a proper burial because of Goblin filth that wanted royal penance?" Killian asked, stalking closer to her. To her credit she didn't flinch at his approach, and that infuriated him further. "Fine, Princess. I swear nothing. I won't swear fealty to you or kiss your ring, like some noble cur you can kick around. I'm sorry if that upsets you, but we had an agreement born of nothing but bad circumstances. They’re gone now, so let me tell you how it's going to be."

He smiled crookedly and let the malice he had pushed down rise up. "I do not serve or lease myself to anyone. You should be licking my boot heels clean from as much good will I've given you. From now on, when I say jump, if your response is not 'How high?', I will personally deliver you to Nil wrapped in a bow. The time for making deals is done."

"I have listened to your advice this entire time, followed your lead on how I should survive - we killed someone, we killed Elsa, and I, I couldn't - I can't -" 

"Oh no, no no no, Princess. Don't you dare try to push her death on me. She died because of  _ you _ . I pushed that fucking creature off of you when you should have killed it, and look what that did. I couldn't leave you to die or be wounded, and it's your fault that she's gone; your guilt to seek penance for, not mine. I am guarding that shard of yours and nothing more. I don't give a damn about your feelings, I barely give a damn about you - I am here for my freedom and if that means handing you to the Goblin prince so I can be rid of you and this tether -" 

"Elsa was wrong, Ingrid was wrong, there is nothing good in you."

"Why do you think they called me the bloody Dark One, you daft, privileged, whiny, bi -"

"If Nil ever lays hands on me, I will -" 

"You'll what? You can't bleed a stone, Emma. You will be at his mercy, a puppet on his strings. You'd be just as trapped as me, but in his bed chamber."

"You always have to remind me of that, don't you? I'm fighting for everyone, including you, but you only see me as the shard, a dumb princess, and Nil's play thing. I am more than that; I am the next Queen! You hate me so much that you're willing to let Milah's history repeat itself again, you disgusting…" She choked on a sob, but Milah's name had sparked more rage like a struck match on black powder. 

“On the contrary, Princess," he spat, eyes wild and teeth bared. His hand throbbed and twitched into its crooked, spasming curve. “I don't hate you. I loathe you. It's just desserts that the royal brat and heir to the very throne who left Milah to die gets used in the same way. Poetic even, some might say." Moving away from the princess, he tried to rub the muscle and tendons out with no success, his palm searing. 

"You cannot mean that. You cannot tell me Milah would want you to - that Liam, and Elsa - Ingrid, Anna, Nemo, your parents - " 

"None of them matter, not one, if they are dead or in the way of getting my revenge. Get your shit together, Princess. We're leaving for the mountains." Gesturing with his twitching hand that was becoming increasingly swollen, he cocked his head slightly with a mocking pout. "Sorry you had to ask and get such a direct answer, M'lady. Why did you just sit there and not tell me you knew about it? Why make it known now that you know about my deals?" 

Emma made no move, wiping tears away with quick swipes. “Because I want you to understand why I am going to meet an ally Alice and Robyn think can help me.” 

Killian laughed, rolling his eyes with his entire head at the thought. “And you think that you can trust them? Some blonde and her girlfriend?” 

“Yes. I know I can trust them.” Emma's tone showed no lack of conviction, a perfectly laid ultimatum without argument. She walked towards the woods, pulling on a small travel pack over her shoulders. 

Snarling, Killian strode towards her. “I'm not going with you, I am not letting perfect strangers take us to another stranger on the off chance they might help -” 

"Killian." He ignored her, she was ludicrously calm now, as if she had the upper hand. 

“-when they are using you, and you are blinded by false sincerity -” 

"Killian." He felt off kilter, out of control, an inferno in the eye of a hurricane. She had to listen if they were going to survive. 

“-trusting in some form of belief that will get you killed -” 

"Dark One!"

"What?" he roared, and looked at her impassive but tear stained face with a sneer. 

"I am going alone. Our partnership is hereby dissolved." 

"What? No, this is not how this works -" 

"Between you and Nil conspiring, your full admittance that all you care about is this shard around my neck, and your non stop reminders of how I… of how much less I am, of my or my family's failings that I would take back in a heartbeat… your constant reminders of what I will be if I'm taken." There was movement behind her, two figures carrying a small lantern. Alice and Robyn appeared from the gloom, holding satchels and a knapsack themselves, viewing him with a mixture of pity and disdain. 

Emma nodded at them, and Killian felt frozen, a child caught in a tantrum being told their punishment. Her voice sounded tired as she sighed and brought her eyes to look at him, no longer the busy princess baking to calm her fears. "What do you think Milah would say if… you know what? Never mind. I'm sorry. Go back and live with Ingrid, see the world, wish on a star that Nil marries me. I just. I can't care about you, call you friend, trust you, or even allow myself to be around you. I was… my mother told me that I was to destroy you, to end the Darkness for good, and I have struggled with that since I met you. Lucky for me I guess, that you are just fine destroying yourself without any help." 

"Princess - Emma - don't you dare -" He approached quickly, sputtering, anger mounting rapidly at her betrayal. 

Emma cast a barrier around herself and the other two women, Killian’s magic hitting it like a tidal wave of gloom, the Darkness trying to crush them in its rage. The mousy Elven girl with glasses opened a portal, flinging a crossbow and arrows on her back, tugging her blonde girlfriend with her. Alice turned to Emma, and Emma motioned an extended finger, asking for just a moment as the light illuminated the enraged man on the other side of her magic. He beat against the wall, sparks flying off his fists as they bounced back, lighting up his face with sparks of blue, gold, cream, and magenta. She couldn't hear his yelling, but the cords in his throat stood out, and she reached out a delicate hand to lay against the crackling barrier. 

"When I saw you for the first time, even in your wildness and the absolutely terrible way you treated me, I recognized a sense of kinship in your eyes immediately. Every time I hated you, every time I ignored your nastiness, your pettiness, all the hurt you tried to force on me in the name of my family, I remembered that look and sought it out." Emma tried to smile, managing only a crooked and broken half grimace."I tried… I thought you found it in mine so many times, that deep loneliness and silence that eats you apart like some larvae, only growing worse every day. It's being lost and lonely, so afraid of the future or its meaning for someone. I hope that you know that I forgive you. I hope you forgive yourself; I want you to find something other than fear and anger. You're right, we are both slaves to our masters. Goodbye, Dark One."

Emma turned quickly, going through the portal. A blinding light lit up the shield, and then it dissipated into thin air. Killian fell forward on the hard packed ground, screaming Emma's name into the night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delay in my next update, I will be skipping next Thursday and posting the following (the 19th) for health reasons.
> 
> Depending on the prognosis, I will then be back to regular every Thursday, or every other for the last few chapters. Regardless if the updates become every other Thursday, I'll explain within the next few weeks on my tumblr and put a blurb on here. 
> 
> Thank you.


	9. vii

# 

The first day that Emma didn't come racing back in realization of her folly, Killian did not worry. She was stubborn, plucky, and absolutely, intolerably obstinate. She would return, he was certain of it, and he stoked the fire smugly while the Darkness coiled in him, winding tighter with each tick of the clock. 

It was no mistake that the voice of the Darkness mimicked the voice of his crocodile-skinned previous master. They both delighted in feats of evil and hated to wait for anything, impatient in every dastardly moment. The days passing made the Darkness break him in ways he hadn't faced since before his imprisonment, with nothing for it to take its anger out on besides him and the body that they shared. 

On the fourth day, it shrieked non-stop with no throat to make raw or lungs that needed to draw air, just a steady shriek within his head that rarely switched octaves. When an eardrum burst, it would heal enough to warble tinny scratches before jolting back into shrieking until it burst again in a terrible cycle. Killian could no longer stoke the fire as heavy summer rain poured from the sky and rolled into his abused ears, his hair sticking to him as he sat in the deluge. 

On the sixth day it broke his fingers in sections, further mutilating his already swollen and weeping hand that had been scratched by the Dagger, the skin tearing open anew and pouring forth foul smelling gunk. He wrapped it in an old shirt padded with some herbal salve Emma had made and left behind, absently wondering if she left it on purpose for him, or had simply forgotten it. Maybe she would return for it? 

_ Hopeful? You're hopeful she will return? What do you not understand about how hapless and nugatory you are? How futile your stupid hope is? She is not coming back, you insignificant barnacle. This all could have been avoided if you had just listened to me, if you had taken the deal Nil gave you! _

"So what do we do?" 

The Darkness did not answer, and his head cleared to an eerily sinister silence. 

"What do I do?" 

Again, no answer came except for the wind moaning through the trees. For another three days, he suffered more of the Darkness' cruelty before he gave in and realized Emma truly was not returning. Or… 

A barely there whisper in his mind broke through, a small stab of worry in a distant corner. What if she could not return? What if something had happened, what if something was wrong? Emma had no idea about the outside world, about the customs or cultures her parents had abandoned in the creation of the United Realms. 

Moving with a manic frenzy, Killian tore down the camp with a single goal in sight. He was going to find Emma and save her, then chastise her to high hell - 

_ Or, at least get the Dagger piece from whoever had her in their grasp - _

And he knew where to start: tracking the two women who took her, Alice and Cheshire, from their ill-fated meeting at Never-Wonder Land. Transporting himself there took more energy than he cared for with the Darkness as loud as it was. Focusing on it not overwhelming his already muddled state of being, he pushed past the yellow tape partitions put up by mortal detectives to enter into the ruins of the club. 

"Looking for a souvenir, Killian? Maybe some recommendations on where to get a good gyro?" Tink's voice rang out from the shadows. 

"You're still here? You're free Tink, why -" 

"We may be free, but that doesn't mean we have anywhere else to go," Tink called down, a heavy sadness in her statement. There was a rumble and a low purr before he caught a shadowy glimpse of the Sphinx stretching on a broken wall out of the corner of his eye. He turned back to Tink. Tink sighed, and he could hear the shrug in her voice. "It's home."

Killian kicked at a broken light that was covered in mirror pieces. It still glowed slightly in the dim room, shooting out shards of light. 

"The Light One is not with him." Wendy's voice echoed from behind him. "How odd. Why have you returned here, Dark One?" 

"I need to find Emma. I believe she is in trouble," Killian called into the dusty gloom. Bricks crumbled nearby, the sound catching his attention before a large paw pinned him down. 

"Half truth. There's some honesty you have left out. Puzzling." Wendy's eyes flicked with golden light, her claws digging through his shirt and trousers as she pushed down on him. Her tail flicked back and forth; Killian couldn’t reply, his lungs crushed and impossible to make noise with. Wendy's eyes widened, her pupils growing as if she could magnify her sight. "Oh. Oh, I -" 

She stepped back, staring at a space near a broken beam. Tink's voice called down to her. "What is it? What's the truth he would not say?" 

Wendy hesitated, but removed her paw. "He's scared of being alone with the thing inside his head. He's scared that it will take over or drive him mad without - " Killian protested loudly, and the Darkness giggled in a jeer he could almost see. Wendy's tail swished agitatedly. "Not important. He wants to find Alice and Robyn, but has no idea where to find them."

"Why should we trust him?" Tink asked, moving to an easier perch to spectate from. "He seems to be in terrible shape. I bet you a meat pie that the princess found a new boyfriend."

Wendy flapped once, the force of her wing beat sending him rolling and forcing his noise of disgust back down his throat. She laid her large head on Tink’s lap, making Tink look even tinier. 

"I told you, they weren't together. There was something, but it was not yet romantic. Truth. And I won't take that bet; it's most likely the truth the princess abandoned him in some capacity.” Wendy wrinkled her nose. “He reeks of Darkness. Also a truth. I say we lock him in with the Tweedles, but as a permanent snack. _ Delicious _ truth."

"Please," Killian moaned, voice more wheeze than request. His spleen reconnected and reorganized itself, his innards processing their crushing. 

Tink's eyes went wide. "What was that? Say again."

Killian licked his lips, the Darkness trying to heal him, and let out a groaned rasp. 

"Please?" 

Tink pushed off Wendy's head, and landed on the floor gracefully as Killian coughed and his ribs knitted back together. 

"The Dark One never asks for help, and never begs." The Darkness sharply jammed another rib into place in agreement. "Why did you ask _ us _for help, and not anyone else?" 

"I was hoping our previous… _ experiences _ with each other might lend me favor." Crawling to stand and moving into Tink's space, he rocked on his heels, smiling with what he hoped was a smolder. “We could even discuss a few things like last time - " 

"Liar," Wendy purred, and Killian debated briefly if he should stuff and mount the beast. "He's seeking physical distraction from the Darkness and his fears for the Light One, but he does not really want it, even in the form of forni -" 

"I've got the idea Wendy," Tink hissed. "So you're trying to distract yourself from Emma. No way are we ever going to be - no. Just… no. You were practically possessed when we - I mean just dark and angry. I'm not that desperate anymore, and have absolutely no idea what I was thinking. It was awful. No." 

Wendy let out a snort, and a slow, mewling, "Truth."

"Wendy, for the Goddess’ sake!" Tink yelled, and the Sphinx made a hissing noise in annoyance, her tail swinging. Pointing at Killian and jabbing him roughly in the chest with her finger, Tink hissed. "Killian. Tell me the truth."

Killian paused, clenching his fist, the other too swollen to close. "I'm worried for Emma. If she's hurt, I cannot be free… And I don't want her to die." 

Tink glanced up at Wendy, who gave an affirmative nod. Leveling a gaze at him, she stepped back to put space between him and herself, smiling curtly. "Fine. We will help you. I have a few guesses where they may have gone, but the top tier - They could have gone to Ursula, but if they did there's no way we could help."

Killian wheezed harder. "_ The _ Ursula? The witch who defied her father and Triton in order to save the Selkies from -" 

"Yes," Tink said gravely. 

"But she's dead, Triton killed her. I saw it when I -" 

"She was cursed. She is still cursed. We won't be able to reach her without a guide." Tink sighed. "According to our sources, the Goblin Prince is using Triton this very instant to wreak havoc on the water, presumably looking for your princess. Ursula is hidden very well, and will have added more defenses, whether she has the princess or not."

Landing next to Tink with a thump, Wendy grimly stared Killian down, her tail curled up into a loose twitch back and forth. Tink scratched her chin affectionately as Wendy made a small chirp. "We could… We could ask Marta. I know her truth and she would -" 

"That's brilliant, yes, I'm sure she doesn't know about Triton’s capture. If she did, we would know."

Killian cleared his throat. "So, that means…?" 

Wendy smirked. "We're all going to Iceland to get Marta, who will get you in to see Ursula. This can work. It _ will _." 

Tink grinned her sharp toothed grin. "And if it doesn't, at least Marta can finally get closure." 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Riding Wendy was stomach turning, even with Killian’s experiences of mishaps with gravity. Tink seemed to have the better seat in Wendy's mane of hair. This combined with the fact that she had frail wings that she would use occasionally gave her a leg up on him, and obviously allowed her to enjoy a more pleasant ride. He, on the other hand, found himself spending most of the trip wishing it was over. 

They had at least filled him in on who Marta was, and he had raised an eyebrow at that: a neutral party, one of the last holdouts between the Merfolk and Anisapi schism that made up one part of the war. She was a mistress of Triton's who happened to be some sort of Selkie royalty, another dirty secret left buried in the old world when the Fae realms were divided. 

Ursula had taken a firm stance on the Selkies being included in the new realms, free of their lesser status and free of the degradation they received from other Fae deeming them 'animals' or Anisapi deeming them too 'Fae' or 'Hume'. The latter was practically a slur in the Anisapi culture. The loss of the Selkie colony was still a division in Mermaid culture, and the Seafolk did not associate with the Anisapi, or vice versa. 

As part of the rebellion, many Seafolk who sided with the Anisapi shed their traditional tails in favor of different choices. Ursula earned the title of Sea Witch for her skill in brewing potions to help the Seafolk do so. She herself chose the gauche form of a sleek, jet-black octopus, spitting in the face of her brother, Triton. His banishment of her, and her own magic creating her secret hideaway of Pacifica for her following, were taboo war stories that the United Realms ignored with gusto - but not Tink or Wendy. 

"When you live in the world of the left behind or exiled, the stories they ignore become your culture," Tink said with a shrug. "The royals and all those rules… I hated Pann, don't get me wrong, but I can understand how someone could go crazy. All that stuffy, pretentious bullshit. It's why people are rallying around the Goblin Prince here, even if he's lying straight to their faces - they are desperate for a change. The princess and you working together and her freeing those in Pann's clutches is giving him a run for his jewels, though. She's becoming quite the folk hero."

Killian rolled his eyes. "Both are terrible choices. Good to see that politics never seem to change."

Wendy grunted. "There is cynical truth to that. Now prepare yourselves, we are almost there."

The clouds parted, and the rocky coastline of Iceland appeared as they approached Reykjavik. 

Marta lived in a simple home in the countryside on the beach, the dark sand leading right up to her porch. Killian could see right away that she was a Selkie, even without her pelt. Silver gray hair was elegantly pulled into an arrangement over her sharp eyebrows, bright eyes, and rounded face. Her grimace made her look starkly angular, teeth far too sharp to be a human’s, fingers tightening on the black shawl she wore over a navy blue dress. 

She spoke in a gravelly and heavily accented voice as they approached, Wendy breaking away to chase the waves with the delight of a kitten. 

"What brings you to my door, Tinkerbell, part Siren of the waters near Oikos and part Fairy of the Olive Groves? What companions do you ask me to invite over my threshold? What news reaches me on this shore?" The woman's gaze was eagle-like, her dark tawny eyes lit with gold. Up close she looked regal, and far less tattered. 

"I am afraid I bring bad tidings to your door, Marta, and grim news. I wish I came with good fortune, but what I have to tell you would break your heart. It is better I tell you than leave you in ignorance."

Marta sighed, and waved a hand for them to follow her. "I'll make some coffee, and get your Sphinx a bowl of cream. Because you speak the truth, Tinkerbell, I will also give you a potion for her to look Hume if she so chooses."

"Marta," Tink let her eyes widen as they entered the shabby kitchen. "Don't use that -" 

"I've been considering reclaiming the word 'Hume' from the slur it has become; especially for those of us who are left and have faced what it means to be looked down upon one way or another. If it offends you, truly, I will refrain." Marta poured coffee into mismatched mugs, and emptied a carton of cream into a patterned bowl. She returned to the deck, setting the bowl on the edge as they sat in deck chairs. 

Killian shrugged, and Tink squirmed slightly. 

Marta turned her to intense stare at him, looking him up and down. She placed her mug on a table and steepled her fingers. "You stink of Darkness, guilt, and broken promises. What are you?" 

_ And you smell of old fish and briney tea, you awful - _

"I'm the Dark One, but my given name is Killian Jones. My family name is -" 

"Blackwater." Marta nodded, cocking her head in thought. "I knew your mother and father. Your father was a terrible bastard, and I am sorry for the way he must have treated you boys."

Killian tensed, and the Darkness swirled in anger and betrayal at the old memories. "That was a long time ago."

"Your feelings give you away, but that is not something I am willing to unpack - why have you come?" 

Tink gave a heaving sigh, and squared her shoulders as she put down her tea. 

"Triton has been captured. He's currently being tortured." Marta dropped her tea cup, her hands shaking. "The Goblins are using his magic to search for Ursula." 

Marta let out a noise of despair. "No. No, he - " 

"I'm sorry," Tink said quietly, gently rubbing Marta's shoulder. The Selkie looked stricken with panic. "You need to go to Ursula, and that's why I brought the Dark One. He has business with Ursula, and you know the way. Take him, and Ursula can help you both."

"That's… I can do that. He will need a tail or two, but I will do it. Goddess be good, my Triton, oh my heart. Do you believe Ursula can help free him?" Marta trailed off, clutched her chest, rubbing in small circles.

_ Gain their attention, vessel, we have better things to do than watch this pitiful display of emotions. _

"I'm right here, so I can hear this conversation," Killian said dryly. "I just need -" 

Tink ignored him. "That's who they pitted him against by trying to storm into Ursula's lair, which… Poor decision on their part, but that's Goblins for you."

"Alright. Are you coming?" Marta asked Tink, and Killian threw up his hands with an exasperated huff. 

Tink shook her head. "No. I need to get Wendy to her brothers, and we have a lead to where we can find work."

"You're going to leave me with - " Killian tried to interject, but both women were standing, Marta guiding Tink to the door. 

"Be safe. I will see you sooner than later, I hope? Your sisters pop by occasionally when they get a chance. Would you like me to pass on anything?" 

"No. They haven't known where I’ve been, and I can't begin that conversation right now. Especially between Roselia and Fawn. It'd be too much." Tink sighed, and Killian moved to the doorway, trying to gain their attention, but became distracted by the sight of Wendy with cream dripping down her face. The Sphinx belched, and Tink let out a laugh, mounting her back. Marta shook her head, and waved as they left, leaving Killian alone to figure out this Marta woman. 

"Well." Marta turned to him, with a look of grim determination on her face. "We should hurry, it's a long ways off to get to any of the entrances to Ursula's. You are not able to breathe underwater comfortably, yes?" 

_ No drowning works for you, does it? Not in rum, self hatred, pity, foolhardy attempts at destroying yourself -_

Killian ignored the hiss of the Darkness, following her back into her cottage, frustrated by the entire ordeal. "No. Not particularly." 

Marta eyed him thoughtfully. Gesturing to a wall of vials and small bottles, she smiled warmly. "How do you feel about an eel tail to go with that dreadful gloom of yours? I have lovely draughts for a _ Muraenidae _ that I mixed with a _ Torpedo marmorata _ to make a real electric eel. None of those ridiculously muddy knife fish variants, along with a pinch of _ Myctophid _ for style. They give you the most lovely glow if you end up in the dark." 

"I refuse. I know the risks of messing with these potions - " 

"I forget how old and out of touch you are. The risks of these are no longer as threatening, and they really never were." Marta gritted her teeth, taking a breath. Letting it out in a heavy exhale, she traced a finger over the labels. "It was a lie by the Merfolk to keep bloodlines pure. Looking back now, it seems silly to think that these terrible risks only happened to Merfolk, Nymphs, Naiad, Sirens - never to the already mixed kin or those who chose to stay in an animal form."

"That sounds -" 

"Like something that the rulers would do? Imagine my surprise at _ still _having to correct Merfolk, Fae, humans, and even my own kind that we don't have to wear a skin completely - that we can be partially female or male Fae. Personally, I wear my seal skin up to my breasts - not because I am modest or opposed to nudity, but because scratching your bosom on the crags is a good way to gather sharks and catch an infection. It also simply hurts like a bitch." Looking at him with humor in her smile, she gave a wink. "Not that you would know. Now, for you I think… Eel or a deep sea shark. Something murky, so you can hide in the gloom, but secretly flashy and with too much ego. I have octopus and squid, but getting the hand of, er, well, eight more hands - it’s not great for beginners. The shark tail is good for speed, but less great for tight maneuvers..."

"I really don't care, as long as it gets us there."

"Well, well, look at you. You are very worried about this princess you care nothing for." Killian froze, stiffening. Marta pressed a bottle of shimmering white liquid into his good palm, the throb under the bandage on the other hand particularly sharp. "I can smell her on your thoughts. To think, Darkness chasing Light. It's kind of romantic - " 

_ Disgusting. After this is over, I believe that her pelt will make nice slippers. _

"No. There's nothing like that at all, I just don't want her to be dead. She's a naive woman, with no idea how infuriating her demeanor is. It's easier having her as a Master or Mistress because she doesn't - " 

"Sure, it's fine." Marta smiled, pulling gray material up over her body, wearing it like a dress. It clung off her shoulders, but her arms and hands were free, even as she dipped a seal tail into the water where her legs had once been. "Come along, then. It's a long swim."

Killian took a deep breath through his gritted teeth, closing his eyes. Taking a small sip of the vial, the Darkness let out a purr of pleasure at the magic binding to them - not white like Emma's, but darker, almost more black than gray, old and esoteric as it forced its vessel to its knees. Killian tried to hold on, his fingernails scraping gouges into the rockscape of the coast as he changed. Shedding his clothing with quick flicks of magic, and slipping into the cool water, he felt relief finally from the potion’s effects. His long eel body felt like pure muscle, dark and striped coiling strength that propelled him with ease by just a flex in the muscles below the navel. 

"Looks good on you," Marta commented, quietly. "And, although we shouldn't, it will scare any merfolk that we come across in the opposite direction. Eel kind aren't welcome in the United Realms without surgery or magic."

"They really went all out to keep themselves as traditional merfolk. That's disgusting," Killian hissed, bubbles rising. His tail pulsed slightly with an electric charge. 

"Just another example of blood magic and strength, but in a different way. They fear that they will be lesser by diluting pure traits." Marta's smooth movements were pure grace, schools of fish scattering around her like silver coins. "They don't realize that accepting new blood, new ideas, new growth makes us stronger." 

He hummed in agreement, and they let themselves be pulled into the strong southern current, speeding down the coast. 

"Why does Nil seem to know where Ursula is if no one can get to her? Doesn't that defeat the purpose of her safety? If he can use Triton to just blow her off the map -" 

"Ursula is the only one that can let people in or out with her blessing. That's her curse, and what punishment Triton himself put upon her for her disobedience. Not only did she refuse her tail, but she married a half Fae Warlock, Merlin, who gave them both Anisapi bodies. He was a prolific brewer of potions, better even than Morgana. Ursula still blames herself for his punishment. It was far worse and more cruel than hers by far."

“Are you sure Ursula will welcome us with open, er, arms?” 

“I used to be the Selkie princess. I introduced Merlin to Morgana, and she introduced him to Ursula. I am free to come and go as I please. Especially since I visit Merlin in his prison.” 

The Darkness gave a strange quiver at the sound of the sorcerer's name. “He’s still alive?” 

“He was cursed by Snow Margueryte. '_ A Mortal who wants to experience the elements they use for their own gain, straying from natural law, shall be granted their wish tenfold _,'" she recited, lazily back stroking with the current. "He is cursed to be an oak tree, his earth magic forcing him to grow roots. He used to be able to speak but his voice has been almost completely swallowed by the bark." 

_ How fitting of a cage, it seems we were not the only ones kept under royal lock and key. _

"Bloody hell."

"I've tried to free him, but my guess is that the curse can only be undone by either Ursula reuniting with him, or Queen Snow reversing it herself. Both are unlikely." Marta paused thoughtfully. "Do you think your Light One could help? She has powerful magic - " 

"She's not mine, and I don't know. Emma - the princess, I mean, she is too willing to help and throw herself at sympathetic tasks. While she would probably say yes, it would be reckless for her to do so. I doubt she even could."

"Well, you must have a relationship with her to be so defensive. You smell of Darkness, guilt, and this almost cloying pining - " 

"Why don't we just swim in silence, yeah? I don't need some sea mongrel telling me about the notes of my bouquet," he snapped, agitated. 

Marta looked at him curiously, but to her credit stayed mum for the remainder of their long journey. It was strange to feel muscles burn that he did not truly have and to experience the raw strength of what he could do in this form. While the eel's body was not meant for these long voyages, he could definitely see its use as they moved closer to the hidden portal that would lead them to Ursula's gates. 

Marta had broken the silence that stretched between them to warn him of the tight path they would need to take. Both of them wriggled through an impossible series of tunneling caves, sometimes against currents or in almost pitch black darkness. As far as Killian could tell, the only way Marta could find her way was as a full seal, for at some point she had slipped her cowl completely over her upper half to transform completely. Eventually, they came to a small cylindrical chamber that led down to a shimmering portal at the deep bottom, like a well. Killian went to zip downward, but Marta nipped him, slowly removing her cowl and releasing her head and arms again. 

"Stay quiet. Move slow. Just drift down gently with the current. You don't want to hit it too fast or the current on the other side will rip you to shreds…" She slowly pointed to small flickering orbs of pink that had begun to light up around the upper edges of where they had come in. "And you'll upset the Reaper Shrimp." 

Killian blinked, almost laughing at the thought but listened, staying still while letting himself float slowly downward. A rock fell from above, most likely jostled by their entrance into the space, and Killian watched it push through the on and off glow of the shrimp. The rock wasn't small, the size of a large orange when it began - it passed a few of the pink creatures and broke, the small monstrosities shearing it to dust loud enough for him to hear the grind. 

Killian could suddenly understand why Nil had not found an entry into Ursula's protected waters. 

The entry into the portal was strange, his tail hitting first and dragging him in; one minute he was in slow motion and the next was being ripped into a suction-like current, unable to see as it jettisoned him through a path lined by stalagmites. He moved slightly, and the current responded to the sudden resistance by shoving him against one, cleanly slicing the flesh of his shoulder. He hissed, but did not move again. 

After what felt like hours, the current roughly deposited them onto a sandy cave floor, a steady path that led to a cavern just visible ahead. Relaxing his tense body, he swam up for air. The water lapped at the soft rock shore, and he slid out of the water to lie on the cold stone, actually tired. There was a loud cough, and he snapped back to attention to see a large face frowning at him. 

"I'd say look what the cat dragged in, but Marty, you aren't a cat and damn it if you didn't get pulled by this bastard nine tenths of the way here."

Marta laughed, pulling herself out of the water, and towards the giant woman in front of them. "Hey, Sully."

"Mmmmhmmm. Don't you '_ Hey Sully _' me when you drop this cretin in my midst. Dark One, what business do you have with me, in my realm? And remember, you're talking to Ursula the Sea Witch here. I will tear you apart just to watch you knit back together." 

Ursula had aged since he last saw her, no longer a young woman, but not old either. Her brown skin was wrinkled at the corners of her eyes, and her forehead showed a pinch where her frown pulled her brows in confusion at their arrival. Her size was still the same as it was when she had fought in battle during the war, the enchantment locking her into a gargantuan form. Tentacles colored in shades of wine, maroon, and nearly pitch black writhed from mottled skin under her navel, suction cups as large as a man's hand stretching along a length of fifteen feet. She moved gracefully around the large chamber, even at her full height that dwarfed Marta and his own many times over as she reached to add ingredients from a carved shelf to a large shell reservoir. 

The biggest change was her braids. Once a lustrous and dark shining ebony, many - if not all - were now a silvery violet or white. It made the veins from the magic in her skin that held her in the cursed form she wore stick out, lightning like, glowing dark purple that pulsed lavender over her temples and arms. 

"Marta, why have you brought this creature into my safe hold?" Ursula boomed, not looking up from her potion making to acknowledge their entrance, as they stood on the edge of the rocky outcrop. Marta slipped off her seal skin, and bowed low, but Killian spoke before she could utter a word. 

"Ursula, Mistress of the Sea and Queen of the magic that holds its secrets. It has been ages since our last meeting." He tried a low bow, but the eel tail that he wore was unstable, coiling on the ground. Marta smacked a hand over her forehead. 

Turning, Ursula lowered her gaze to stare with malevolence at Killian, her pupils a bright violet. "Yes, Dark One. That was intentional," she said dryly. 

"I have come to see if you are holding a prisoner here, one who is in grave -" 

"Oh, you dear, naive, stupid boy. You really have not changed since we last met, have you? I admit that in the past I've been nasty, but you'll find that nowadays I've mended all my ways. I've repented, seen the light, and made a switch." Ursula tutted, bringing her body completely around to face him. He could see now there were bones, shells, and bleached driftwood twisted around the ends of her braids like beads, some vaguely humanoid. Her chest was scarred and lined on both sides of her ribcage with lightning like pulses of magic. She leaned forward, laying her head on a long arm. Her head was easily the same height as his entire body as she gave him a poke with her thick, tree branch-like finger tipped with long black nails. "What is all your idle babble for? Intimidating me? You think that you can _ scare _me here? That I'll give up a prize just because you march - or slither as it were - your cute little butt in here?" 

"I - what?" 

"I said, you haven't learned shit from when you were under the thumb of the Darkness completely, spreading its poison through my waters and killing innocent Fae. Even wrapped in this scrumptious little hors d'oeuvre of a package, you still spread death, Dark One. How hard that must be for you. Pretty face, that lays everything to waste. Even without hearing that dark leech, your body language alone speaks nothing but lies. I'm unfortunately taken, though, so a nibble is out of the question."

"I don't know what you're bloody well talking about. I'm here to find the Princess of the damned United Realms -" 

"So is the Goblin prince, his sentries, and many others who have come to my door. Yet, you're the only one who has made it past my portal, I'll admit. The person you seek may be here, or they may not. If they were, they'd be either under my protection, or my prisoner. Either way, I wouldn't let you within a tentacle’s length of them." Ursula poked hard with her nail, stabbing against his sternum. She grinned widely, teeth flashing white. "Describe her to me, and maybe I'll remember which she is, a prisoner or a political refugee. I get many Fae flocking to my cauldron. You may have heard that I know a little magic, a talent that I always have possessed. Who knows who all the Merfolk alone I've helped? Some princess is just another day on the books for me."

"No. This isn't a game and I'll - " 

"Then leave! Do you think I don't have better things to do? I'm a very busy woman and I haven't got all day! The position of annoying, death-spreading, evil, dark magic-using _ man-child _ has already been filled by Nil, who is wreaking havoc on the ecosystems with his magic. So, what the _ hell _ are you doing still standing here?" Ursula boomed, eyes flashing with a malicious gleam. A thick tentacle gripped and lifted him, making to throw him against the rocky cave current. 

"Wait!" Marta yelled, and his eel body did what it was built to do, writhing in her slipping grip as electric shock poured off him. Ursula dropped him hard to the ground, Marta wincing with a flinch. "Sorry, I should have warned you. He's an electric eel, Sully, my own formula."

"You and your gods-be-damned potions, Marta. _ Congrats _. I should rake you across the coals for hurting my good tentacle like that," Ursula spat sarcastically, bringing the shocked tentacle up to her face to examine it. 

"You want a description of her? Alright." Killian coughed slightly, dazed as he felt the electrical current fade away like pinpricks. Marta shook her head, but he ignored her pleading for him to stop.

"She's pretty, I guess, if you like blonde and aristocracy. Classical beauty, her skin is almost all cream with a touch of sun," he began, licking his lips. His brain felt short circuited and he tried to picture her in his mind’s eye. It felt like it had been too long since he saw her, and while the Darkness was silent in its own daze, a quiet voice whispered gently that yes, it had been too long. It had been too long, and he owed her an apology - so many apologies.

"She's kind, too much for her own good really, well read, funny, bitingly sarcastic with so much wit. Brilliantly smart, but never overbearing, and where there isn't grace in her movement there is purpose instead. She's incredibly strong, so powerful. It's unbelievable that she doesn't know just how much so, or how much she affects others simply by her presence - " The Darkness roared back, and he swallowed bile that rose. "But just as with her family and so many Fae, her 'beauty' and 'purity' is as false as calling a speck of dirt a diamond - she's a vain, shrill, over glorified, annoying, whiny, preening, narcissistic, high born, undeserving, and obstinate brat worth only the crown that will grace her fat head someday. So if you do have her, regardless of whether she's a prisoner or political refugee, let's cut a deal for her to get her off each other's hands, hmm?"

Ursula shook her head, clicking her tongue, while Marta looked on with her hand over her mouth in shock. Someone had brought the Selkie a robe, and a few other women sat with her now, watching him with clear unease. 

Ursula spoke coldly. "You have no idea what a pompous, arrogant, assuming fool you look like chasing the princess down here. She's right, you are absolutely oblivious - " 

"She's - Emma's alright then? You have her? She's an absolute idiot who needs constant supervision - " 

"Says the man who is scandalizing most of my court," Ursula cackled spitefully. He looked to see that the eel potion had worn off, and he was standing nude before the Sea Witch. Against his will, he could feel his ears going red. He waved a hand and his clothes appeared back on his form, just as a chime sounded somewhere down the adjoining corridor. 

Ursula sighed, looking tired again. She leveled a harsh stare at Killian. 

"Don't you ever get tired of being the villain in these tales? Don't you think you should take a look and see if you can set the story right, especially after all this time? Or are you just a dumbass who has a nice jawline and magic that can destroy an armada?" Ursula gave him a half smirk, and flipped her braids behind her shoulders. Inwardly, Killian flinched at the accusation and how much he didn't want to remember. 

_ But you do remember, don't you? You remember what you did, how good it felt, and how you didn't care about ending your family name as long as you could get revenge. Every part of you that fights it is a liar. There is no happy ending for the Dark One - for you. No, that's not an option for this coward, this milk sop who can't even find a hapless princess who has run away - _

Emma's voice filled the chamber, startling him as he tried to determine if it was a trick by the Darkness itself, but no, she was real. She walked in with a red headed woman, both of them drying their hair with linen towels while they wore the standard silken robe that the Selkie seemed to prefer. When she saw him she looked as if she had been struck, rearing back. Somewhere far off, he felt his shoulders go slightly less tense, his relief a tiny sound. 

"What is he doing here?" Emma hissed, pointing at him like he was a ghost. He probably looked like some ghoul, he realized, wet hair sticking in all directions and his face unshaven. "Who brought him here?" 

"I did. I seek Triton and his freedom; the Dark One seeks his own ends," Marta said, speaking up and standing. Emma took a step back, putting herself behind one of Ursula's thick tentacles. "We both need answers - " 

The red head spoke up, in a haughty tone of voice that made Killian immediately believe she was a royal. "And who are you? You're not from this colony. What business do you have with my father?" 

Marta looked pained. "We should discuss that in private -" 

"No! What business do you have with the King of Atlantica, Selkie?" The red headed woman flushed and stomped her foot. 

"I… Oh Ariel, please. I don't want to cause you distress. Just - " 

"How do you know my name?" 

"Your father and I, we were… We were close. He and I… It's complicated. Look, I heard he was in trouble and I want to help. Please." Marta's pleading tone only further seemed to infuriate Ariel. 

"That's not a good enough answer, especially when you travel with the Dark One," Emma hissed, refusing to look at Killian, seemingly trying to compose herself. "The Dark One tried to sell me off to the Goblins, the same ones that hold Triton captive." 

"Emma, I -" Killian started, but Emma cut him off, eyes snapping up to look at his face. Her eyes were tired, but fiercely focused in her rage. She looked older, and unlike her companion, was stiffly solemn in her fury. 

"You do not have any right to address me so informally, or to speak to me at all!" she yelled. Killian startled slightly, seeing her as if she was stronger, different than when they parted. 

"So please excuse Ariel and I for not believing a lying, traitorous pig and his newfound companion,” Emma continued, the defiant coldness in her voice settling over him as he processed her change in demeanor. “Do not address me like we're friends either; that informality has died - is gone. How many days were you alone before you realized that the company you provide is toxic?" 

"Please, Swan, hear me out. I came here to -" 

"To sell me to a different bidder? Do _ not _ call me that, do _ not _ come here and act like you have any right to call me Swan. You do not have the right to grovel at my feet. How dare you. Why on earth would -" 

"To apologize!" His shouted reply rung through the caves, but Emma simply scoffed at him, looking livid. "Em - Princess, I needed to apologize for my part in the quarrel we had. I was out of line, and I am sorry. Please forgive me." 

"You're forgiven. Now, leave."

"No, Emma - That's not what I meant - please talk to me, I -" 

"There's nothing to talk about, Dark One. Begone. I don't like looking at you. I don't like hearing you, especially my name said in your voice. I don't like - no, I _ hate _ that you are here, and I don't feel safe because of your presence. I hate that you think that you have the right to just walk up to me and demand that things be like - for there to be no walls. Walls you made me build! You can't - you don't ask that of people."

"I'm sorry, but _ who _ was left in the middle of a forest without any chance of freedom? I didn't make you do anything. You built your own damned fortress because you are afraid of grief, not because - " 

"Leave. I am not afraid of grief, and the hypocrisy of that statement is… Just leave. I can't do this, and I can't stand you. I am glad I left you there. I only wish I had never met you at all." 

She stormed away. As he tried to pursue her again, the thick black and burgundy tentacle was back, gripping him tightly around the waist and throwing him to the ground away from Marta. Ursula towered above him, while Marta and Ariel glared at him from their sides of the cavern. 

"That poor girl," Marta tutted shaking her head. "I thought you said she would be happy to see you?"

"I thought she would be. She could barely manage on her own when we were last - " 

Ursula and Ariel laughed at that, a tentacle smacking him back down as he tried to stand.

"Emma can handle herself just fine, and has been. Alice and Robyn left her here because of that, and their trust in the princess speaks volumes. We have had plenty of time for her to see that she isn't some damsel like you tried to make her out to be." Ariel shrugged, her voice icy towards him. "I don't think she needs _ your _ brand of saving anymore."

Ursula chuckled lowly. "Nope. The princess is quite formidable without you. Shame that you are the last to notice. Alice even said she saved your sorry ass at Pann's club - " 

"We worked together in that instance. She - " 

"Prevented you from being dinner for a Sphinx. At least, that's how half of the Fae community is telling it. The Princess is becoming quite the rallying cry here in the realm of those left behind," Ursula drawled, the tip of a tentacle delicately lifting his chin as his jaw ticked. 

"She was popular in the United Realms too, and people still believe she will save them." Ariel chimed in. "My father and I believe it - we prayed to Poseidon to bless her. I know she'll help; she's taken to the water like a natural - " 

"Is Triton alright? Have you heard anything about his treatment, or if he's been hurt?" Marta blurted out, wringing her hands. Ariel shot her a look that was clearly full of mistrust. 

Killian glanced between the Sea Witch and Marta, unsure what to make of what was happening, even as Ursula sighed and rubbed her fingers against her temples. 

"Go on Marta. The girl deserves to know."

"I deserve to know what? We don't mix with Selkie kind. You're lazy filth who refuse to worship the gods, or serve their chosen kings. There's nothing to know."

Killian bristled, and the tentacle next to him came down in a hard smash, the boom echoing throughout the caves.

"You will not use that language in my domain, little Mermaid," Ursula gritted out, half yelling at Ariel. 

Selkies in both forms poked their heads in from smaller caves, watching with varying expressions. Many were angry, and he couldn't blame them for their derision at the Mermaid princess’ dismissal.

"Your mother was a lovely Mermaid, and truly kind,” Marta began. “I adored her and respected her for what she and Triton had. It was something I could never give him, even though we were very much in love before he was pushed into their marriage. Then she passed in that terrible accident, and all of you had been born. I could not bear to bring my desires to Triton while he mourned the loss with his children. I grieved for Calypso, for Triton to lose such a wonderful wife and friend, and for you girls to lose such a fierce mother. She loved you so very much. Your aunt Sully, er, Ursula was trapped here. No one had seen Morgana since the sword in the lake incident with Arthur and her exile North… With Poseidon gone on to follow his mother in death, Triton had no one left. No one but me. And I missed him.

"Your father and I reconnected. It was like falling back into a lazy current, right where we left off. He made promises that he would change the laws so we could be together, but he refused to let me meet any of you, refused to let me live in the United Realms with your kind, refused to understand why my kind will not worship your grandfather. Instead, he kept me hidden like an embarrassment, just like before when Poseidon forced us apart - but this time, my heart couldn't take that pain again. I told him to find someone who he didn't have to hide, and to stop lying to himself, to stop lying to me - and I swam as far as I could. I've lived with the humans in Iceland ever since. Your father never gave chase."

Ariel wrinkled her nose, looking at Marta with disgust. "But you're, you're a - he couldn't risk letting more of your kind disrupt our civilization, we are peaceful - "

"What have I done, what has my kind done, that would make us so disgusting in your eyes? What disservice have we brought you, when you, a Mermaid, love a human?" 

Ariel sputtered, her face going as red as her hair. "That is not the same in any way, shape, or form. Humans aren't Fae or privy to Fae politics -" 

Killian laughed out loud, and eyes drew to him from all corners of the cave. Rocking on his heels to regain his normal swagger, he waved a hand accusingly at Ariel. "So, because he has no idea how anything works and is ignorant to all that has happened, it's alright. Are you keeping a pet, Merprincess? Or do you actually love him?" 

"Like you know anything about love, you - " 

"He's right, Ariel. What do you love about this human?" Ursula asked, her eyes dark and dangerous. 

"Eric is kind, funny, smart - he loves animals and the sea. He isn't like other mortals, at all. He wants to be with me even though we're different, and promised me that he would bridge the gap between our worlds in anyway he could - " 

"Then he is much better than you or my idiot brother," Ursula snapped. "You treat humans better than your kin, see in them what you should see in us. Do you not know what humans do to us?" 

"Eric would never -" 

"I believe you," Marta said quietly. "And I think your Eric probably is all those things, because Triton is too. He spoke about your kindness, your love, and your passionate curiosity that drove him insane. He was always the most worried about you. I wanted to meet his wild daughter so badly. My hopes were higher for this meeting, Ariel."

Out of one of the caves, Killian saw Emma sit with two plump spotted seals, her eyes noticeably red-rimmed even at this distance as she watched Ariel.

"I just… what could my Father like about you? You are dignified for a Selkie, and seem more intelligent, but I just don't understand why he would risk - " 

Emma booed loudly from her small cave, other Selkies following suit. Ariel shot her a glare, but Emma only shrugged with her own eyes narrowed. 

"Aren't you trying to risk everything for some human?" Killian asked, and Ursula allowed him to move closer to the Mermaid. "Why is any Fae lesser than you, especially one that your kind used to share this sea with? Is there any particular reason why you have to make yourself feel superior to them?" Killian pointed to the Selkies, who clapped and cheered their approval. He heard Emma's voice among them, and glanced at her. For a moment, he thought he caught a hint of approval in the sea glass color of her eyes. 

"I don't need a lecture from _ you _ of all people, the man who murdered his own kind so indiscriminately. Blood ran thicker in the current than water that day. I may be young, but my people tell their children tales of the nightmare you created, Dark One." Ariel jabbed a finger at him, jutting out her chin. "If I had not escaped the Goblin's clutches in Emma's palace, I would never have imagined in my wildest day dreams that you would try to convince anyone that you were sorry for your actions. I lend a command to Princess Emma, and henceforth demand that you leave."

Scrubbing his face, Killian pointed at Ariel with annoyance. "You can't 'lend a command'. That’s not how any court protocol works!" 

"Then I'm demanding you leave, you awful bully! In case you need reminding, I'm a princess, I can do as I please without protocol!" Ariel shrieked at him, and he saw Emma drop her face into her hand, most likely in embarrassment. 

"Like hell, I'm not -" Killian began to protest, but Ursula slammed a tentacle between the two of them, separating him from the Mermaid. 

"The Dark One has asked for a chance to redeem himself to Princess Emma. He has failed, but I am not in a position to grant him safe passage away from their and our mutual enemy. I will allow him to stay as long as he does not make my other guests uncomfortable or unsafe, and I will have Marta chaperone him. I ask that you, Ariel, use your abilities to follow through with our accord; bring me the shipwrecks so we may face this Goblin menace head on, so I may lend you and your beloved Human help in freeing your father. As a steward of goodwill, I will house Emma in this emergency, and Killian may take one ship once we are victorious in freeing Triton. Until then, Marta and Killian will also help you with this task. Maybe even redeeming themselves, yet."

"I need some time to process this," Ariel huffed, her nose in the air. She slunk back into the water, her tail flipping with a splash. 

"Make up your mind quick; you act as if I have all day to play royal mediator. I damn well better be freed of my curse after this!" Ursula yelled after her. 

Killian watched Emma slip on a cuff, her body partially turning to jade, silver and gold, a tail flipping below the surface almost silently. The caves dripped, and he was left to watch her leave again while Marta discussed how they would go about bringing sunken shipwrecks into the cave. Watching the water for any sign of the princess, he tried to formulate some way to get the shard. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma felt like she had been slapped hard across her face, head still reeling from seeing Killian again. He had followed her, the audacity of that bastard to have found her, to try and speak with her - 

She let out another shriek into the empty water of the kelp forest, letting herself float down to the sandy bottom. Looking up, she couldn't see the surface, only the brackish depths and swaying strings of long underwater vines. Her chest ached, and she took a deep breath of the salty water, relishing the coldness of it. He had looked so disheveled, had looked at her like he was seeing a phantom too, but for an entirely different reason - 

She had changed. She wasn't the princess he knew any longer, but the beginning of something completely different - more resilient, more in control, more cold and world weary, more cautious. Killian did not know her any longer. Alice and Robyn had bolstered her, emboldened her to be stronger than ever. Emma had learned to, as Alice put it, _ give no fucks _. Watching Ariel and her antics just proved that. Ariel’s complaints about their hosts’ simplicity set Emma's teeth on edge, and that was only one of the more banal issues Emma took to heart. Ariel could be shallow, brash, impulsive, and petulant in ways Emma had never dreamed of being. 

Whereas Emma's parents had raised her to work hard, to be studious, well rounded, and perfect in matters of decorum, Ariel was the youngest of seven sisters. She was a gifted musician, but skipped classes, caused mischief, disrupted others, created mayhem with her magic, refused to listen to her father's reasoning, and found no joy in any of the harder aspects of ruling a kingdom. The woman all but balked at hard work, expecting to be waited on. She seemed more content to have Emma as a source of gossip than as an ally. It was clear that Ursula was frustrated with Ariel as well, even if they were both frightened for Triton. 

Ursula's idea of using the old Fae armada that currently lay in half-restored pieces near her kingdom was ingenious, as far as Emma could tell. Eric, Ariel's beau, was happily providing more ships that people were scrapping in his shipyard for the cause, and Ariel's talent of making portals through the water was working exceptionally well when they were done piecing together new parts and old like a jigsaw to make something new. Ursula had amassed three ships already that floated in a cave, waiting to be boarded. The Sea Witch had confided her hopes in Emma early on, realizing her competency. 

_ "If this all goes right, if we free Triton and he knows that I helped, I hope he will return me to my original form so I can beseech Queen Snow to appeal Merlin's curse. It has been too long since I have hoped for any sort of redemption, but your arrival heralds in the beginning of a new era for the forgotten that lay here in wait."_

_ "I can't say my mother will be able to give you an audience, Ursula, but I pray to the goddess that she does."_

_ "Thank you, Princess Emma, you are too kind." _

_ "I am nothing but a weary bearer of hindsight."_

Ariel swam by, sighing in a whine. 

"So. What do you think of this project Ursula has me on? I can't believe I have to work with that… that _ Thing _, and then that Selkie who believes she can chastise me - " 

"Both parts of that are worrisome but for different reasons," Emma said with her own tired sigh and a shrug that rustled the grit she lay on. "Very different reasons, actually - I am worried about you and Kil - the Dark One working together, because he's… He isn't a good person. But I'm more worried for this Marta woman, to be honest." 

Ariel scoffed. "You have to be the most bleeding heart royal I've ever met to believe her Selkie sob story. I'm surprised she's not wearing a crocodile skin with the tears she was faking over Daddy. My father would _ never _ sink as low as to encourage a Selkie’s attention, let alone _ dally _ with one." Ariel floated down to lay beside Emma, and Emma moved slightly so she could rest on her side, observing Ariel critically. 

"She was telling the truth, Ariel." Emma stated firmly, tail betraying her agitation with its quick flicks in the sand. "She seems like a very nice woman, and she would have to be to not get chewed up and spat out by the Darkness that permeates his presence."

"But Emma, didn't he - didn't you say that you remembered - " Ariel began, and Emma held up a hand with irritation written in her scowl. 

"Yes, I might have remembered that I was stupid when I was drunk, and he got us home. A lot happened after that, so that kiss was inconsequential, and a symptom of the chaos that was our narrow survival. After that, when Elsa… He showed his true colors."

"Yeah. I wish that you had someone fighting for you like I do with Eric. I can't wait to give him that cuff back, I miss him," Ariel said dreamily, dismissing the seriousness of the conversation again. "Your talk of kissing reminded me."

Emma smiled a strained but polite grimace. Squaring her shoulders, she rose up slightly to cross her arms and change her stature to reflect her annoyance. With a hand on her hip and the other extended to gesture, she spoke. 

"It's up to you, regardless, Ariel, but I will say that regardless of what you think of Marta or customs outside your own, I do not find your views befitting anyone I would have in my close confidence. You should lead by example and make your own choices from your own experiences. Talk to Marta."

Ariel stuck up her nose, sitting up with arms crossed against her chest. "By that logic, I should give the Dark One a chance as well!" she yelled as Emma turned to leave her alone to stew. 

She shrugged before disappearing into the kelp, looking at Ariel with pity. "I did, and look how that turned out." 

It wasn't a far swim back to the secret entrance to Ursula's lair, and then into the Selkie caves. The three main chambers were connected by tunnels that spread out to thousands of honeycomb style chambers, some with water flowing through them in little creeks that babbled musically into waterfalls that fell into the bottom pool. Ursula protected the first chamber, her fleet in a cave off of that and her cauldron near the center. The bottom was almost completely submerged with a proliferation of crystals and slabs of limestone, while a current swept along the floor that could take even an experienced diver by surprise. You could enter through that opening, but to leave the same way would cut you to ribbons, and Ursula guarded the other exit that lay at the edge near the other chambers, her own among them. The middle chamber was filled with rock platforms where trees and ferns took root in small gardens and a small waterfall fed a pond covered in lotus blooms. The greenery seemed to attract the nymphs, who giggled profusely at Emma walking past with no tail or pearl bead littered hair. 

The last chamber was for socializing, dotted with tables and balconies. Different flags and banners waved in beautiful fabrics. Crystals and moss grew that lit up in the evening darkness, and changed the water color to a startling bright blue. A volcanic spring heated pools on the far side for cooking and cleaning, while the cooler pools allowed for bathing and relaxation. 

Emma's room was in one of the higher areas, a small cave with a ledge for a pallet and her things. A few steps cut into the rock led down to a brook that carved its path past a slight bend and into the chamber she had met with Ursula in. A curtain covered the archway that led to where the brook turned, allowing for privacy even at this height. 

A clothesline was also provided, and Emma had used it with gusto when she first arrived. It was when she discovered that both her white gown from the failed appeal so long ago and her blue dress were covered in blood: Goblin, her own, and Elsa's… Emma was thankful that the caves were set up so that very few heard her screams when the panic sporadically struck, when all she could do was hold the fabric and weep as that night played over and over in her head. 

Occasionally she found sleep, but it was hard to get real rest. Since the attack, when she dreamed, visions of Nil all but ruined those completely. She had to stay strong and focused, but everything felt wrong. Even her movements felt delayed, but pride would not allow her to go to Ursula or Ariel with her complaints. 

Her mind fell back to Killian, and Ursula's decision for him to stay. There was no doubt that they might run into each other, but as long as she was under Ursula's protection and good graces, it was not as if she could leave the waters. He was probably already trying to locate where she was staying in the cave system. He was an even match to her stubbornness, to her great consternation. She considered having Ursula just put him out anyway, knowing the Sea Witch would do so without a thought beyond how much of a 'poor unfortunate soul' he would be on his own; however, it left her with a mouth full of ash. She would prove to be not much more than a damsel if she could not dismiss him without a mediator. 

That was one of the worst things: it felt as if she was ripping old skin away from new whenever she wanted to remember the good, and not what he was, what he did, what he said. There was no good. She had imagined it when she was drunk, high on adrenaline, confused, and exhilarated just to be alive - imagined how he felt against her like some idiot debutante that he had fled from. That in and of itself should have been enough, but he had lied about it, so blatantly even; the way he had looked at her as he acted playful in those moments before she had failed Elsa was different than before. 

That was the only regret she held, and the only unspoken matter left between the two of them that Emma was willing to issue amends for. It was her fault Elsa was dead, the guilt squarely on her shoulders no matter how she dissected those moments in her mind. Every argument that could be made started with the catalyst of her arrival, and ended with her failure to dispatch the Goblin or heal Elsa. Even though the blade had clearly hit Elsa’s lung and part of her heart, Emma couldn't understand why she froze, why she didn't try to heal her friend regardless, why she didn't exhaust herself in every attempt. It haunted her; between nightmares of Nil, panic attacks, and her lack of sleep, she wondered how anyone managed to survive. 

And while every part of her screamed to make amends like the diplomatic daughter of royalty she was, what good would it do for anyone? Emma curled further into herself, wishing she didn't feel all at once surrounded, smothered even, but still so alone. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The morning of their mission to procure the rest of Ursula's armada was bright and serene. Marta was excited and anxious to spend time with Ariel and her human paramour. Killian focused his attention on simply hammering out the work and implementing a plan of action that would allow him to at least get Ariel to speak to Emma, potentially softening her to the idea of speaking with him. The sea princess was unlike Emma in many ways, and prone to falling for the pitfalls he set, or simply biting onto bait he placed to fish for more info. That was, until Emma herself joined their merry mission. 

If he had thought she looked tired from afar, up close she was clearly exhausted, barely functioning as she lazily swam with Ariel, who whispered to her in a concerned manner. Killian heard snippets of their conversation, the Darkness gleefully taking in the scent of Emma's weakness. 

_ If an accident were to happen where we could get the shard, no one would be any the wiser. Especially with how close the princess will be to a portal leading to waters outside Ursula's domain. _

A pleasurable current ran up his spine, the Darkness growing more fond of his eel form every time he donned it. Killian had caught Emma staring; and even in her practically asleep state, fascination was obvious on her face as she watched his tail cut through the water or curl in fluid motions. 

_ Not fascination, in disgust and horror. Don't think that she is not still scared of you just because she managed to raise her voice a few decibels. Focus. _

Ariel opened a portal easily, swimming in quick circles with a swirl of magic that opened to the true ocean. The water was dark, much colder, and much more unruly. Killian and Marta struggled through the opening, Ariel following behind as Emma gave a wan wave while holding it steady with her own magic. 

Only a few yards in, he glanced back and the small portal was barely a glow through the choppy waves. They were going to bring a boat through this? 

"I know that this looks crazy, but Eric's up top on the skipper and he'll help with the extraction. We just have to attach the chains to the hull, and pull it through."

Killian looked up; he could barely make out the shape of a large boat floating above, the rusted chains slowly grazing the sea floor and sending up clouds of murky silt. 

They pulled the chains over the hull of the first barely held together ship, its wrecked carcass shuddering through the portal with a groan. Emma looked pale from using her magic to widen the portal, but ushered them through easily. 

The next ship was buried in a deep quagmire of sand which required Ariel and Marta both to help him, along with a few other Selkie, Nymph and Naiads. Sandy clouds billowed in thick columns from where they dug, rising and falling thick enough to make them cough. They worked for what felt like hours, scooping sand, pulling, and digging out the sediment that resettled, only to repeat again and again. The water grew progressively more rough, waves rattling and jerking the chains, causing more sand to shift. Thunder cracked from above and a green bolt of lightning illuminated the water so brightly that the seafloor looked bathed in other worldly emerald sunshine. Green coated where the bolt hit, leaving a shiny residue that seemed to boil the water before fading. 

The party scattered, fleeing towards the portal desperately at the sign of magic while Ariel raced upwards towards her human lover without any worry for her own safety. 

"Ariel! Look out, stop!" Marta darted after her as sea animals in groups of unnatural and dissimilar species swam towards them from the surface of the water. Killian shot upwards, shocking with electricity several seals that circled the women while pulling another's jaws away from Marta's shoulder. Red began to rise from the wound, Marta's cry of pain barely audible over the roar of the surf while the pummeling current briefly dazed him. Ariel was tearing gulls away from her as she tried to breach the surface, a great cracking noise and thunder rattling his teeth as he fought off another onslaught of seals. 

"I thought seals liked and listened to Selkies?" he managed to yell, Marta throwing jets of scalding water at schools of what looked like jellyfish. 

"These sea creatures are poisoned or bewitched. Jellyfish usually just float - they don't hunt like this, and we do have kinship to seals - Ariel, oh Atlantis, watch out!" Marta abandoned her attempts as she pushed Ariel aside. A piece of heavy debris hit her as the ship above gave a giant metal groan. Ariel didn't even look back as she grabbed at a piece of debris, pulling out a human man who was clearly unconscious. 

"Move, we have to get him through the portal, and back to the air!" Ariel shrieked, and Killian crested the surface to look above, even as waves and birds battered him. A tall, wide, patchwork metal ship glowed green in the circle of a storm, speeding towards them. _ Goblins _. Grabbing a floating glass jar, he dove below, opening the sealed container upside down and handing it to Ariel. 

"Go! Get him through the portal!" Killian shouted at Ariel, and she was gone in a flash. 

The water was lit again by the ghastly green lightning, and Killian searched for Marta desperately before the light gave way to murk again. She was pinned between a large metal piece, weakly fighting off fish, and he dug to free her as she whimpered. Pulling her to him, she went limp, and he sped towards the portal. Ariel was in front of him, pulling on the chains that had fallen, her brow strained as she pulled the ship they had been working on through so they could slip past. He could hear Emma’s cries from the other side of the portal ringing out as he helped push the ship through, her calling for Ariel and Marta. 

Ariel pushed Eric through the minute there was a big enough gap, straight into Emma’s arms, screaming at her to get him to air. Emma was gone in an instant as the mermaid swam in circles to keep the portal open, the ship inching along as Killian handed a Siren Marta's unconscious body through the widening gap. Ariel yelled at him, roughly elbowing him as a shark barreled towards them, its dead eyes glowing green and jaw wide with sharp teeth. Killian hit it hard with an electric charge, stunning himself with the force of the current. In the moment of dazed consciousness that came after, he heard Ariel shriek, the shark too incensed to be affected by the shock as it bit down on her tail. Killian punched it hard in the nose, willing the portal to hold, to stay open as her circles stopped. The realization dawned on him of what he'd have to do, and he braced himself. 

_ Don't you fucking dare you - _

Before the Darkness could seize up his muscles, he shoved Ariel roughly through the portal against the ship's backside, watching her wide eyed stare as it blinked into nothingness before him. The shark circled back, along with more seals, more fish, and a swarm of jellyfish. Fighting what he could, he was shocked to feel a warm hand yanking him backwards, the portal going closed in front of his eyes as he was dragged through. 

He turned to see Emma, who let go of him as if she'd been burned. Red hung in the clear waters, her face pale and cast in a greenish tone. Emma panted, her eyes closed as she let her chest heave. 

"Emma, are you al-" 

Emma shot away from him, fleeing through the gathering crowd. The injured were being pulled back into the cove and into the caves where they presumably could be treated. 

_ The princess is weak, now is your chance, we can break her - _

He swam into the caves, only to be greeted to the sight of Marta being bandaged in fish scales, gauze, and kelp. Robes lay in piles by the upward slope, and he wrapped one around himself as he willed the magic controlling his eel form away to transform back. There was no sign of Emma, although Ursula was moving all her tentacles at once, handing out towels, gauze, fish skin bandages, poultices, potions, salves, and lotions. Ariel sat near Marta, still with a tail, cupping her humans face as he worried about the bite on her thigh and applied pressure with a cloth. The sounds of moaning and whimpering filled the cave coming from all over and echoed through the halls. The Darkness purred at the sound and his stomach turned over in disgust. 

"Killian, oh Goddess' I thought -" Marta started, as she began to tear up, before suddenly wrapping him in a tight hug. He froze, awkwardly trying to pull away as she cried. "You saved us, you saved Ariel and Eric, and we left you -" 

"If there's one thing I am good at, it is surviving." Freeing himself from her hold, he kicked a rock with his bare foot, and muttered under his breath, "I always survive."

Ariel looked up at him with a strange look of appraisal. "I owe you - _ we _ owe you our lives. Eric wouldn't have made it without that air, and you pushed me through while that shark -" 

"Yes, I was there. I don't need to relive the buggering memory." He gritted out. "I need -" 

"Name it, and I'll make it happen if I can," Ariel said, wincing slightly as she adjusted her position. 

"Where's Emma?" 

Ariel winced again, this time from his question. "Except for that. Leave her alone, she's - " 

"Help me get back into her graces. That's my request for the debt you owe me for saving you." Killian crossed his arms, watching the flustered mermaid princess weigh her options. Pointing to her grim-faced mortal paramour, he offered his good hand. "For saving both of you. Shake on it."

"Emma does not want to see you, she's made that clear even to me," Eric began, and Killian glared at him with a crazed half smile. 

"I wasn't aware that I asked you, mortal. If you're speaking for your woman, you may want to first discuss her opinions about you being an inferior species to her. In many of our views, a pet or play thing." Ariel looked horrified as the man looked at her with hurt. 

"Ariel, what does he mean?" Eric asked, and Killian chuckled softly. 

"Should I elucidate on who exactly deserves rights in your opinion, darling?" Killian smirked, and Ariel glared at him. 

"She's in the upper east part of the caves. Follow the green turtle carvings. Please just let her be."

"Killian -" Marta began, but he shook a finger. The Darkness rose proudly in his chest. 

"Oh no no no no, I'll do without the suggestions. You three owe me a debt, which I fully intend to collect. I'll expect your cooperation from now on, as I could have easily let all of you be chum. Start thinking of ideas to get Emma to trust me again while I do some work of my own."

"You're a bastard," Marta spat. 

Killian laughed, turning on his heels as he magicked his clothing back on. Shooting her a cocky wink, he called over his shoulder, "And don't you forget it, love." 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ  


Emma was sure she was breaking, her body too hot and breathing ragged as if she had eaten glass. The red in the water, the cries of pain, the portal closing around Ariel as Killian’s hands disappeared back into the dirty dark water as a shark flashed by… The stab of panic and despair made her swallow bile. She could not lose another, not another, not even if she hated him - 

Opening the portal she grabbed blindly, gripping his shoulder, the feeling of a harsh electrical charge making her fingers numb. She curled them through it, wrenching him back as the shark shot towards them, dead eyes and teeth all she could see as the portal closed. 

She let go of him as soon as possible, clutching her hand as it regained feeling. The world was spinning, the single minded focus of saving him giving way to realization of what she had done, to the sounds, the taste and smell of the blood in the water in her mouth. Nausea hit her roughly, a metal ball churning in her stomach, forcing her to close her eyes and steady her breathing. There was so much red, too much red - 

"Emma, are you al-" 

Her body reacted for her, choosing flight instead of fight. Pushing past the onslaught of Fae that were swimming out of the cave towards the sounds, Emma ripped off her cuff and threw on a robe as she ran. Twisting through tunnels and chambers, she found a path that led downwards, stumbling onto the beach's multicolored sand. Light flooded from a hole high above, tinting the still waters with the different colors of crystals that lay at the bottom. 

Falling to her knees, Emma let out the first sob, digging her hands in the sand as it echoed around her.

Sbe hated this. It was weakness, her emotions in the way of her duties. She should be healing, should be composed - she needed to prove that she was no damsel in need of rescue. This wasn't resilience, this wasn't control, and this was nowhere near strength. She was failing, failing in every aspect of her change for the better. How could she ever prove to be a leader like this? Another cry shook her, her hands shaking even as she dug them further into the shore. Why? Why couldn't she control this, push it away, push it down and lay a smile over it?

Emma thought of her mom, the tired smile she gave that her eyes did not reflect. Emma had only seen her give it when she was upset or something was amiss, and she wondered if it was the same smile she gave delivering news about deaths in the same bloody water, the same red-tinged depths. 

Her stomach heaved, the taste of copper on her tongue making her retch. There was nothing in her stomach apart from a few mint leaves she had chewed, her appetite far diminished, but her body tried to push anything out of her throat. Footsteps from the corridor surprised her, and she dreaded being found, curling herself into a ball. There was no one she wanted to see her like this, her old flaws laid out like a spill of ink into clear water. Peeking out as the footsteps stopped, she saw black boots against the rock hewn floor, just before the sand. There was quiet for a moment and she shut her eyes tight. Not him. Anyone else but him. 

Footsteps started away from her and her stomach violently lurched with panic, even as she was glad her hands were buried so she could not reach for him. Flashes of Elsa's hand going limp mad her lungs tighten, images coming unbidden, fast and without stop. Her body and mind weren't her own anymore, these reactions getting worse, like a flood that could not be contained. Her heart beat out of her chest, and she flopped on her back shivering. This was a terrible way to suffer. Her father's bleeding skull in her mother's lap was in sudden focus as a sharp whine took over the noise around her. 

She couldn't breathe, everything crushing at once, but then she was being sat up by soft hands - 

"Emma. Emma it's okay, take a breath for me and focus on my voice." 

Emma whined in response, opening her eyes to see a worried Robyn examining her. Alice stood behind her, moving from foot to foot, and wringing her hands. 

"She's having a panic attack. He said that she hadn't looked well and fled here," Robyn commented, placing a cool rag on Emma's forehead. Emma sighed in slight relief, still shaking and numb in her fingers, toes, and legs. "Emma, have you eaten much today?" 

"Nuffin'." Emma bit out, teeth chattering. Robyn's face fell, her eyebrows knitting together. 

Alice knelt by her side, holding her hand. "He said she looked tired, too… Emma, babe, are you not sleeping? Are you not eating?" 

Emma looked away, unwilling to meet Alice's eyes with her own. She attempted to curl her body away, but Robyn held her firm. 

"You have to take care of yourself, too," Robyn said slowly, wiping at Emma's brow. "You can't keep every emotion inside and bottle everything up. You can't just ignore the pain and hope things get better, you need to talk about it, to take care of yourself and let people know if it's too much - " 

"I'm scared to," Emma admitted, crying harder. Alice hugged her tightly, and they sat together as Emma lost herself in her grief. After some time, a strange catharsis set in, and they sat back together in soft conversation. 

"Why are you both back? I thought you were going to Merlin to see if my magic could free him?" Emma murmured, her voice hoarse. 

"Well…" Alice began, exchanging a glance with Robyn. 

"He wasn't there," Robyn said slowly, with a sigh. "The tree stump is, as if it was cut down, but there's no indication of when, or by who, and if they cut it down we have no idea if he's alive or - " 

Alice lightly touched Robyn on the shoulder, and she stopped. Emma nodded, chewing her lip hard enough to hurt. Another person her parents had probably destroyed. 

"That's not what brought us here, though. Tink and Wendy are looking for more on Merlin, covering leads and rumors, because we - Well, someone needed us here," Alice said, her voice strange. 

"Me." Emma sighed, her resignation and frustration flaring. 

The two exchanged glances again, Robyn nervously adjusting her glasses while Alice twirled a blonde strand of her wildly curled hair. 

"No, actually," Robyn mumbled. 

Alice took Emma's hand again, examining her palm with interest. "You know, I can read palms right? Look at that love line, so rocky at first, and there's a little chip out of your li - " 

"Who was it then?" Emma asked, making Alice tense. 

Robyn looked Emma dead on, her face serious. "What is your relationship with the Dark One?" 


	10. viii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picture credit unknown, not mine. I didn't have time to Art for this chapter.  
NOTE - ARCHIVE WARNINGS IN FULL EFFECT THIS CHAPTER. Please, please, use discretion.  
There is the beginning of non con in the last bit of the chapter.

The Darkness was roiling mad, a furious mass of thorns that exploded in his rib cage and up through his spine. It ripped threw his head, his shoulders tightening as it dug in like a macabre torture device of old. He kept trying to explain, trying to make it understand his reasoning, but it only howled like a wolf outside the sheep pen - 

_YOU HAVE NO REASONING FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE, YOU STUPID MAN! _

She had to be well in order to fight long enough to survive for Nil; to not just hang herself while the Dagger melted silver down her clavicle. 

_DO YOU NOT REMEMBER OUR JOINING, OUR PACT? HOW TO ACT WITH FINESSE, TO BREAK SOMEONE WITHOUT EXERTING PRESSURE, OR HOW TO PUSH THEM OVER THE EDGE? _

Calling for Alice and asking her to go to Emma's aid was a good thing strategically, and her actually appearing like some sort of fogged looking glass apparition he summoned was a blessing

_YOU COULD HAVE FOLLOWED MY SIMPLE PLAN FOR YOU TO PUSH HER WHILE SHE WAS BREAKING! _

The voice changed in timbre and tone as it sometimes did, easily digging its points home. Killian could practically see his father, drunk and dismissive, shouting at Liam and beating them both bloody under one of the massive pines. The memory of watching Liam with a broken jaw as he went into his first year in the junior naval recruits was the one it dug its claws into, the Darkness fueling old anger and shame. 

_YOU SAW HER HIDE FROM YOU, YOU COULD HAVE EASILY WORKED YOUR WAY UNDER HER SKIN AND GOTTEN HER FOLLOWING YOU TO NIL. YOU COULD HAVE EVEN PRESSED FOR THE SHARD, IF SHE WAS TRULY AT HER WIT'S END - INSTEAD YOU TRIP OVER YOUR TONGUE LIKE A **BOY**! **AN IMBECILE**! _

It pressed him, but he was not weak. He could crush his father ten times over now if the bastard wasn't dead, and no one could get under his skin again. Certainly not some crying woman, especially the daughter of an enemy, and such a valuable card to hold in play if he wanted to be free. Maybe he had told Alice too much about his worries over Emma, while Robyn watched with bewildered dismay. Maybe he blurted how she was acting, and they thought that he was showing weakness or worry. Imagined of course, there was nothing - 

_SHE BEWITCHES YOU INTO SYMPATHETIC STUPOR, SHE FILLS YOU WITH IDEAS OF REDEMPTION YOU DO NOT DESERVE, YOU ARE SO CLOSE TO YOUR REVENGE, OUR REVENGE, AND YOU FAIL ME. I MUST PUNISH YOU, I MUST **HURT** YOU. _

He braced himself; the pain of broken bones as he folded into himself was enough to make him wish for true death. 

_**I WISH YOU WERE DEAD**, FREEING MYSELF FROM YOUR INEPTITUDE WOULD BE A BLESSING WELL MET WITH YOUR DEATH. _

They both knew it was fruitless, the idea impossible while the dagger was still broken. He would survive the pain, and the Darkness would greet him in its vengeance without fail. With eyes closed tightly, he braced himself for what was to come. 

Instead of pain, though, it cackled, and Killian felt more fear than before. 

_Oh yes, feel that fear, Dearie. No more physical pain for today. You mentioned strategy - I have a strategic plan for you, regarding a fitting punishment; the sort worthy of this sort of betrayal. You've been misbehaving without consequences too long now, your leash forgotten. Do you remember when you failed to stop Snow Margueryte and her Charming? Do you remember how I tormented you for your failure? _

Killian shook his head in horror. Not that. 

_Oh yes, **that**. It's time for your nightmare. I'll provide you mercy and heal you first… Be patient, for when I'm done we'll begin my favorite game with you. We haven't played in such a long time… _

His bones began to knit back together, cracking into place noisily and sloppily. Emma's voice suddenly echoed into his chamber, breaking through the Darkness' cackling. 

"Dark One!" She was blazing with rage and light magic, Killian barely able to stand upright at her advance. The Darkness felt licks of her fury strike, its yowls of pain as it hid itself away a bitter requiem of relief. 

Killian gritted his teeth as he adjusted his frame to lean against the wall, his body still healing slowly even as the Darkness exited. "Princess?" he rasped. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she shrieked; he thought she might move to strike him, to hear the venom with which she spat the question out. "You went through Ariel? Through Alice and Robyn? Through Eric and Marta? Did you think that I would not find out immediately or that they would not tell me of your attempt at deceit? What information did you hope you could squeeze from them while I was dealing with the consequences of my failures? You already know all of them, what could you possibly use against me now?"

He winced, and not all from pain. A vague guilt that had a name - remorse perhaps? 

“That wasn't the reason, I didn't - I wanted to -"

"I don't want anything to do with you. How many times do I have to -" Emma's magic hit him again, his corroded mind practically melting as her magic burnt the Darkness where it attempted to remain stuck to his bones. His knees wobbled. 

"Emma, I just need you to know -" 

Emma interrupted as he tried to take a breath, sweat beading on his forehead. "No. No, you don't need me to, you want me to. Big difference, buddy, and I have a choice in whether or not I listen. I don't want to listen."

His voice sounded small to his own ears. "I just want to know that you're okay."

Emma laughed, her eyes wild and teeth bared. "You know that I'm okay, that I am just dealing with a war, deaths, betrayals, figuring out who to trust and who isn't a monster. You've known I was alright since I left you, since I didn't come back - it's you who isn't alright. You’re scared. I don't blame you for it either; I can't imagine how it must feel to be unable to make your own choices, but I am not and cannot be your crutch. Find someone else."

Nodding, he scrubbed his face, and then carded his hand through his hair. "I thought - Never mind. Please just - You'll have to take care of yourself to survive. Keep yourself safe, and the shard; talk to Ursula and Ariel, alright? I was - I thought they might be concerned for you, and I am sorry for bothering them. And you. That's all. Nothing else."

Marta poked her head in, clearing her throat. "Uh, Killian. Ursula has a ship ready for you, and she's requested that you leave immediately. I've offered to go with you part of the way to make sure you don't do anything else untoward."

Emma snorted, spitefully. "Thanks Marta. Sorry you got the short straw."

Marta sighed. "Princess, do you need me to -" 

"I'm fine," Emma snapped. "Just about done here." Marta gave a nod, taking her leave. 

"I'm going to leave then," Killian said.

"Good. If we never meet again it will be too soon."

"If it means anything, I'm glad you are safe. I'm glad the shard is safe. I am glad you are with people who can help you, and who are… good at protecting you. I don't - you don't have to worry if they are trustworthy, and they won't fail you. Goodbye, Princess."

"Farewell, Dark One." 

He walked in a daze to the place where his ship waited, uncaring and unaware of the Selkies booing him, the food and trash thrown at him, of Ursula, Eric, Ariel, Alice, and Robyn watching his trek out of the caves with Emma. He stared, Eric and Ariel openly glaring, Robyn giving him the same squinted look of confusion that she had previously, and Alice too busy talking to Emma. 

To distract her from him. A dull heaviness pushed down on his shoulders, weight settling in his stomach. 

Marta was already waiting for him on the ship, a look of pity for him on her face. "Ready?" she inquired softly. He nodded, and they drew anchor. The ship moved through the calm water, everything quiet as they departed, including the voices that made up the Darkness. 

The portal out was a one way exit, the ship's wheel in his hands a steadying comfort. They caught the breeze, leaving the tranquility of the underwater oasis and sailing off the proverbial edge of Ursula's world to land in stormy waters. 

He had to blink a few times as a bright green bolt of blinding lightning cracked in the heavens. The storm was massive, and he followed its course along the horizon, seeing an armada skirting a hurricane before it hit something unseen, the clouds breaking apart. Killian ran to the stern, Marta joining him with a hand over her mouth. 

Ursula's caves flickered into view, appearing like a great bubble from the sea floor by some otherworldly force. As the caves crested the surface, the protective forces that had been shielding the caves broke with a resounding force, the huge crash as they struck the surface to sink again sending a shockwave through the water. Their ship pitched back and forth as they held steady to her moorings; the water had become a roiling mess of waves from the magic radiating off of the fleet in the distance. Green lightning struck the water all around it, and even from their distance Killian could see floating carcasses and the mass of birds seeking carrion, the water a sickly olive color. The storm began again, and Killian brought the spyglass in his pocket to his eye to examine the strangest fleet of mismatched ships Killian had ever seen, and tethered at its front was the cause of this destruction - King of the Merfolk, the previous King of the Sea: Ursula's brother, Triton. 

Shuddering in disbelief of the King's fate, even if deserved, Killian tried to map and count the plan of attack from their positions. Frigates, sloops, and even a few galleons were interspersed with metal rusting boats in styles Killian had never seen. The largest was something Elsa had called a barge, and it led the ships as the storm beat around them, the towering man with a large, dirty, grey beard at the lead. Focusing with a twist, he surveyed Triton further. The partial God was bruised and emaciated, held by a golden collar around his neck that linked to the barge with its towering blocks of rectangular metal boxes. Following the chain from the man’s collar to a raised dais that lay on a deck, Neal lounged nearby in a windowed observation level, looking bemused. Triton was under the control of the prince, his powers controlled by Nil's desire to possess Emma. 

But they would never, never get through to Ursula - 

Triton waved a large trident around, and the storm sparked with green and purple electricity. Ursula's secret realm lurched into view again as he spun the weapon with skill, before it sunk below in another huge crash. Their ship creaked ominously as the waves sent them flying. Triton bellowed loudly, making Marta whimper next to Killian. 

"We have to go back," Marta whispered, watching Killian close the spyglass. 

"Go back? For what, the pleasure of being ripped apart by Goblins and a demi-god? She doesn't want me there, what good -" 

Marta slapped him hard, changing from a highborn prim matron to the visage of a livid sorceress. 

"Stop thinking about yourself for one damned minute, you narcissistic clam! Even if that is the Darkness in you, recognize that this is bigger than you or your princess - my friend and my people are about to be slaughtered. I know what you did. I know how you exploded over that fleet like some sort of comet, and how you screamed the entire time begging for forgiveness. I was there in the water, before and after. I watched you kill those men, I saw them die; it took days to get the blood out of my pelt. Are you really going to let that happen again? Even if they aren't your people?"

Remembering the Darkness and its threat of reliving his worst nightmares, Killian paused. A spark lit his chest into a blaze. 

"If you wanted to die so badly, you could not have chosen a more reckless bastard willing to assist." He turned the ship, heading straight towards Triton and the Goblin fleet. 

What are you doing?! 

Killian felt the Darkness wake again, still weakened. Reading his thoughts, it quieted at the promise of a battle, the idea of any sort of confrontation too delicious to push back against. It acquiesced to his intended course, lending strength that made Killian grin ferally. 

They had just passed where the portal had spit them out when he heard the noise of another ship close by, only slightly behind. It caught up with them in an instant, and he had to blink; the silhouette was so familiar, the way it glided through the water as if it flew, almost like the Jewel but not quite - 

The thought was obliterated as Emma came into view on the deck, her hair whipping around her scowling face. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Get her out of here. This place is about to be a war zone if they manage to pit Ursula against Triton," Marta yelled at Emma's vessel, pointing to where Triton moved the water in huge eddies, the sea opening up and closing. 

Ariel yelled back, obviously frustrated and pointing at Emma. "We told her that, she -" 

"This is what Emma wants to do! We need to help Ursula, and we need to help your father, so why are you so oblivious you twit?" Alice marched toward Ariel, pointing, no longer soft spoken. 

"Of course I want to save my father, but how the hell is she going to help when she isn't even in her right mind!" Ariel spat, before regret played across her features. "Emma, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that in the way -" 

Alice and Robin cut off Ariel, though their words were lost to a forceful gust of wind. Alice looked livid, gesturing at Ariel to the point that Eric had stepped in and tried to separate them. Emma looked frozen in place, opening her mouth to say something, but thought better of it and retreated. Killian caught her eye, but she just looked through him, and instead jumped when thunder boomed over their heads.

Wind ripped at their own sails, Marta running to the front of the ship as Killian raced toward the back, glancing over to see Emma's sleeker vessel roll in the waves. The storm itself seemed concentrated around them suddenly, growing in ferocity. Massive waves, fueled by Triton’s powers, drew up shipwrecks that crashed into their vessels, jostling the princess and sending Eric to the wheel to frantically steer. Ariel was red with rage, screaming at Alice and Eric, while Emma tried to get their attention. 

Killian yelled at them to stop, but they only pointed their shouts at him, rain now pouring down on them like the sky had opened. 

Emma let out a scream of frustration, and Killian could see it before it happened, moving with a rope in his hand as he threw back the last of the vial in his pocket, jumping into the water only moments after Emma lost her balance and flew over the side. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Stop fighting, it's making the storm - " Emma shouted, but it was drowned out over the roar of waves, the downpour, and the brawl. A wave tore at her, and she was thrown roughly to the deck, her hand catching a rope for support. The wind whipped the rigging skyward, her cuff falling away as she flew off the planks and into the ocean. 

The water hit her full on, taking her breath away. She scrambled for the cuff, realizing too late it was lost in the sea. The dark water was freezing, crushing her in the indeterminate up and down. In a panicked moment she tried to summon the cuff, and when her magic simply sputtered, she tried to conjure air. No bubbles formed around her, her magic strained or weakened by Nil's influence on the sea. Fighting against the current left the air in her lungs burning, but she could not give in. A life of no more sky was how all of her nightmares seemed to end: here in the silence of drowning, in a life with Nil, or surrounded by darkness that was too alive. What would her mother say? Her father? With their fiercest faces on, speaking of honor and hard won peace - 

_"We never give up in this family, Emma. We always find another. Good always wins."_

Now she wanted desperately to ask at what cost? At what cost did good win, when this was good? Good should not be having to struggle, banished from a realm for no more reason than hatred, locked away forever or until you could be of use, punishments that were cruel and unusual - that wasn't good winning. 

That cost didn't need to be paid when there were so many other paths available. If only they had sought wisdom, if they had reached out and tried to see what might be good for all… Emma wished that she could have helped them do better, that maybe if she wasn't drowning, if they weren't imprisoned, if the weight of what they built hadn't come crashing down, they all could have changed things. 

Her eyes blurred and bright spots burst in her vision. Blackness closed in, her magic dampened, embracing the beginning of the end, until a hand grabbed her own. It pulled hard, tearing through the water. A blue light came from somewhere in the dark, but when she reached for it Emma felt her legs touch a tail, hand tingling from shock. There was no way it was him; Ariel was right that she had lost her mind, this was just some strange vision before she would wake in her bed. Arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her upwards, trying to beat the water that leaked into her mouth and nose, and there were his eyes, like he actually - 

Landing on hard wood with a thud, she could dimly hear voices of concern, but mostly she could see a soaking wet Killian looking down at her in fear. Emma coughed, choking on water as he watched her, breathing in harshly himself and falling back to his elbows. Too weak to move away from him and much weaker still to try to ask why, she stared at him in angry confusion. 

"You really need to stop drowning around me," he said in explanation, wiping wet hair away from his face, as if it meant nothing. "It's a terrible way to go, and I have made it abundantly clear that I will not let you."

Emma couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of her at the absolute absurdity of everything, the hurt in her chest from the lack of oxygen, and how much hatred she wanted to feel even though she could not summon it. 

"I'll try and keep that in mind. Thank you," Emma whispered with as much annoyance as she could muster. Killian cracked a cheeky grin, and Emma felt the urge to punch him rise. 

"Emma, I'm so sorry. We realized that you were gone after he was jumping off the other side after you - " Alice rapidly began, before crushing Emma in a hug. The rest of her friends gathered, the storm calming around them on both ships. 

There was a loud splintering crack as more of Ursula's realm was pulled from hiding. Goblins threw ropes at the caves, climbing like spiders into the network of tunnels as Selkies launched their own bare defenses until they were dragged out in nets. 

A massive tentacle broke from the water, smacking hard against Triton as Ursula pushed free into the onslaught. Ariel gasped, and Marta began frantically pacing the deck. 

"What do we do?" Marta asked. Everyone turned towards Killian, who looked at his feet. 

"Don't look at me," he snapped, pointing to Emma. "The princess here does a far better job at improvisation methods. Ask her, she's your leader."

Emma blinked, staring at Killian with a suspicious glare. She thought for a moment, pushing past everything that had happened, her fears evaporating as she moved into planning. 

"We help Ursula, and we help the Selkies. Eric will pilot to Ursula, while some of us take the other ship and destroy what we can of Nil’s armada." She spoke calmly, delegating tasks quickly and methodically cycling through what they would need. "Ursula needs more time to try and get her denizens all out, so we need to make any sort of distraction we can. We can draw them away or at least split their forces if he knows I'm here."

"That is a terrible - " Ariel began, but Emma stopped her with a harsh tone. 

"If you have nothing better to offer, Ariel, I don't want to hear it."

Ariel managed to look shocked, before swallowing with a nod. "Let's free my father."

They split as a group, Emma giving Marta a solemn nod when they turned away to head towards Nil, Eric steering their ship straight into the formation. Killian forced his way between two ships in the rear, blending in easily, using their mix of styles to his advantage. It wasn't until the the first ship lay silent and burning that any attack looked like it was taking place. At least he could do this; maybe they could do this and for once take a victory. 

Marta steered hard into a barely held together wooden sloop. Alice and Robyn wreaked chaos with strange smoke bombs detonated by arrows while Killian lit sails on fire, the Goblins seemingly not understanding why liberally leaving petrol around could be a problem. The armada's wooden ships burned hot in the water, making the storm even eerier, green lightning mixed with the bright reds of the flames creating barriers for any course direction. It was clear that the Goblins were not familiar with any Naval strategy, and Emma felt a small surge of hope. Eric had a steady hand as he watched Ariel create portals, shutting them around longer vessels when they were halfway through with screeching crunches. 

The Goblin fleet took notice, but Nil made no move for Emma as their ship took fire. Eric and Ariel disappeared onto a steel boat with a claw like contraption while Emma tried to magic herself onto another ship’s deck without success. Her hands trembled, sparks finally lighting and sending her sprawling on a shiny silver floor surrounded by huge containers stacked on each other. A Goblin stared at her in confusion before she lunged, plunging her sword into its chest out of instinct. The Goblin fell with a thud, and Emma began to run. These ships were long and easy to cross. Her mind was made up to get to Nil before he could get to the Selkies. 

Killian appeared in the middle of the last surviving holdout of metal barges, pursued as he jumped across a row of metal containers above Emma while she herded a group into the space below. The Goblins above carelessly knocked containers down in a tumble, burying her pursuers. Emma met his eyes briefly, giving him a nod.

They continued through the maze of metal on opposite sides of each other, flowing into an easy strategy together that made her angrier still at Nil - angry that she could possibly consider working again with the Dark One. It was too simple to fall back into their unfriendly truce. The thought had barely crossed her mind when the wood under her feet splintered and bowed, her feet slipping as the barge tipped forward, barreling towards the sea floor. The impact of the hull against the rocky ground sent her flying, the noise alone reverberating through her teeth like she was shattering as the rocks came towards her at frightening speed. 

The same black blur as before pushed her into swirling water. The force of the whirlpool crushed them both, but her hand crushed his even harder while he pulled upward. Water resettled again as they gasped for air together at the surface, Killian’s hair sticking flat against his face. The water was full of debris and flame, smoke making it impossible to see much of anything. Ships ground together all around them as he helped her cling to a chunk of wood. It was in both of their best interests for her to be alive and uninjured, but here he was playing some sort of savior that went far beyond the bounds of their truce. He was behind her, at her side, or in sync with her step, both of them working together with an ease as if they were partners, and yet that’s not what they were. It made her angry, furious even, even in the midst of battle. 

"Killian, what - " But before she could finish, she was forced to push him frantically out of the way as a huge chunk of a rock formation fell, the resulting force smacking them together. "Look out, go!" 

More rocks fell around them and cut through the smoke, Ursula's lair appearing again to all as its protective shields flickered to a shuddering halt, the walls looming over them as it hurtled downwards again towards the sea floor. One of the main chambers swallowed them as the lair descended, pushing water aside as it split around them, crystals raining down in sparkling pieces. Caught in the push back of the water, they were pulled with the mass of rock as it fell away and began settling into the bottom of the sea. The force of the ensuing wave, however, pushed them back up and over the surface, Emma's back smacking against what was once the cave floor. The two pieces were still crumbling, but now sat horizontally in the water to create an invisible shoreline made of stone. Emma had little time to acknowledge where she landed, the wind escaping her lungs when she tried to shriek and shield her body from another round of the boulders. Killian pulled her into a roll, ending up above her breathing heavily. 

"G'off - " Emma let out a panted breath from under him, weakly protesting at his weight. "Catch your breath, and g'off!"

Killian rolled off of her onto his back, letting out puffs of air as he did. 

"Sorry," he rasped, and finally pushed his hair out of his face with a wet slap. Emma let out a laugh, regretting it instantly as she coughed. 

"S'alright." Propping herself upright on her elbows, she quickly glanced around the cave fragment where they had washed up, now its own small island in the turmoiled sea. Standing and peering around the cracked rock, her breath caught again. 

Ursula's realm was broken into pieces around the remaining ships, cracked and jagged mountains of what was once the cave jutting out of the water. The piece they were sequestered on was at the outer edge, so obscured by smoke that they could not see Ursula at all until Triton's first blow landed and swept the billowing clouds away. 

The brother and sister stood in the water in front of Nil's barge, both of them colossal and struggling against each other’s strength as Ursula's tentacles wrapped around the trident. Nets were thrown towards what was left of the caves, dragging selkies into a cargo hold, the water carrying sounds of distress to her ears. Emma slipped through the crack, running towards the water, but there he was in her peripheral, because of course he was. Of course he would stalk her even in the middle of a battle - 

"Don't you dare tell me not to do this, not to do something - " Emma hissed, putting more distance between them. He stood slightly in front of her, but made no move to stop her. 

"I wasn't going to," Killian replied with a sideways glance, following slightly behind when she pushed past. "Do you have a plan?" he asked when they got closer, nets hauling in screaming women and seals. 

"Get the Selkies out and turn Nil's focus fully on me so that Ursula can free Triton. Nil doesn't care about his people or how many die; he will only notice if a new plaything is put in front of him. I don't know how much time Ursula needs, but that's my last resort plan."

"I have a plan, and it should buy you time if you - " 

"Trust you again?" She whirled on her heel back towards him. "That's below even my last resort plan. I will never - " 

"I've betrayed you, and I understand that you owe me nothing, Em - Princess, but I swear to you now that I give you my fealty. I swear on Milah, Liam, and Elsa that I will be your ally, and help you in this war. Take a leap of faith here, please, I promise you that - " She turned away. Killian tried to follow, but she held up a hand. 

"Shut the hell up, Killian. Just stop. Please." Her voice wavered slightly, and he halted behind her. Seeing him look actually admonished, actually concerned as he pushed wet hair away from his face, Emma lowered herself into the water. 

"Fair enough." He whispered.

"By the way," her shoulders tightened, though she didn’t bother to glance at him, "if you're really sorry, _truly_ apologetic even in some part of you that can still muster that emotion, a true apology would be changed behavior. Which is why if I am faced with you and Nil as my options, I will take this dagger shard to the bottom of the sea. I’d rather _die_ than pick either of you."

"I am - " 

"I don't care, Killian. Thank you for your help here, and thank you for saving my life. It does not change anything."

Emma propelled herself forward into one of the nets, leaving him behind again. It dragged her and several frightened Selkies up over a deck, depositing them into some sort of holding cage. Emma moved quickly, cutting through the ropes with a knife that Ursula had given her. Handing it off to a nymph, Emma lifted herself from the floor with discarded netting, looking around to see what all was taking place.

Emma spotted Ariel in a corner, waving for her attention and pointing to a wall with a circling finger. She could make a portal; good - a quiet and easy way to get the Selkies to safety. Emma motioned to the groups of Selkies netted on deck, prioritizing those who were held down by Goblins or in view of the archers taking aim near the King's raised area. The first two attempts were straightforward, no Goblins milling around to stop them. The third was more harrowing, almost cut short by a Goblin's shrieking. Killian snapped its neck from behind as Emma braced herself for discovery, her eyes widening further when he ducked down and helped her cut through a heavy cord that bound the Selkies. They split apart again, the last groups too close to the front and at risk of being directly under a rain of archers. There was a shadowy section of boxes that she could dip behind for cover, but without the archers’ eyes distracted, it would be impossible to get to. Killian signaled from a corner, ducking behind a tarp when a patrol went by. 

Emma stayed still in the hold, pleading with her eyes, trying to tell him that she needed only a little time. He gave her a slight downcast smile, almost a grimace but not quite, and sprung from hiding. Slashing and hacking at a set of Goblins to provide a distraction as she ran to cut the last nets, he made his way toward the front of the huge metal ship until Nil bellowed. Nil pointed one of his gnarled fingers at Killian, eyes widening in recognition as his face turned from anger, to a smile. He laughed, opening his hands and spreading his arms as if presented with an old friend. 

Watching with a sick feeling churning in her gut, she saw Killian bow lowly. To her great horror, his wide, crooked, grin was once again back. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The bow he gave was met by several Goblins overtaking him, beating him as they placed shackles on his arms and legs. They weighed heavily, burning against his skin. Iron. Of course it was iron; it was earth, after all. Goblins were right behind Dwarves with their affinity for earth magic, able to bend iron with ease. 

Nil walked towards him wearing a fur cape draped over his shoulders that sparkled in the dim light. Killian could see that it was a poorly crafted blend of Merscale, Selkie pelts, and varying Ansapi skins. Even despite Nil’s garish and disgusting costuming, Killian saw the faintest glimpse of Milah in the man's unsure eyes. Then, the Goblin smiled broadly, and any trace of her was wiped away. 

"You made it!" Nil bellowed, seemingly overjoyed as his guard looked on in confusion, ignoring the lifeless bodies that lay around the ship and its strange cargo pillars, marking Killian’s path. 

Killian struggled slightly, testing his bonds as they seared the flesh. "Certainly did," he hissed. 

"Where is my Queen? My radiant bride-to-be and future submitting wife?" Nil practically sang. Killian could see his mouth was wet, the too long tongue in his mouth slick with salivation. 

Killian suppressed the disgust that threatened to spill over at the prince’s language. 

The Darkness caressed his bones, tickling gently under his skin. 

_Tell him. Do it. End this._

Killian set his jaw, thinking of Emma's hand on the barrier she had created in the woods, the way her brows had pinched and lips had turned down. She had trusted him briefly, even going so far to say that he had good inside of him when she first forgave him, and to say she wished him peace when she left. 

There had been a moment when she hesitated before going into the portal, thought about looking back at him, and he had hated her for almost forgiving him again. He had hated her for so much more than her slender shoulders had ever had to bear, blamed her for so much; he’d even told her in no uncertain terms that she should suffer as Milah had. And still, she was here, looking at him with those eyes that he couldn't escape. 

_No no no, you listen to me, only to me. I am your master, you are my hound to beat when it fails to bring me my kills! No, **NOW LISTEN, LISTEN. END THIS**. _

He couldn't stop thinking of the anger and relief when she spoke his name again upon seeing him before Ursula, the way she had dismissed him instead of making him grovel like she should have, demanding her pound of flesh for what he had put her through. The way she was glancing at him now with apprehension and fear. 

_She is a weakling, full of uncontrolled emotions and too much trust that has led to her ruin. Go on, stop stalling! Hurry, hurry now, we can get the shard and - _

And giving her to Nil would end with nothing more than misery for not only her, but anyone who stood in the Goblins’ way - Royals and Fae like Marta, or the numerous scattered Fae that refused a crown once before - 

“Well?” Nil asked, laughing raucously.

Well? Give him the princess, you blithering simpleton - 

Killian cleared his throat, preparing himself. "She's dead."

** _What!? _ **

"I must have misheard you, Dark One," Nil chuckled dangerously. "Say again?" 

Yes, say**_ AGAIN? _**_WHAT ARE YOU DOING?_**_ END THIS. _**

The Darkness tried to force its words onto his tongue, but he would not let her forgiveness by dismissal be in vain. 

_ENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHIS **END THIS, GIVE HER UP **_

"She's dead; she ran from me weeks ago. I found her body in a ravine, the shard dissolved to ash. I will never be freed." He spoke as bitterly as he could, channeling the hatred easily. 

"What?" the Goblin Prince screamed, enraged. "She is strong willed and has a bite to match that delectable bark, so she cannot be dead. She is like my own stolen mother, and destined for her blood to strengthen the throne. No, she cannot be dead."

_You won't buy her time with this, you fool! This is inevitable, she is his and will be his like your whore was his father's. You **must** get the shard - _

"I assure you, she is. Even in death, she made it difficult. The ravine was deep and absolutely bloody terrible to climb into. I can't imagine falling down it was anything even she could have survived."

_You **will** suffer for this. _

"Good," Killian whispered, mostly to himself. Emma looked at him from the remains of the net, where the Selkies were now freed from their confines. She motioned for him to stop, but he shook his head, wet strands of the shaggy mess sticking to his forehead. The Goblin Prince paced, before taking deep breaths and turning again to face Killian. 

"Then why have you come here, slaughtered my fleet, and created chaos? I've heard about your glory under my father. Did you really come here empty handed to tell me you're untethered?" Nil attempted to sound amused, but the desperate edge was heavy in his tone. There was no control there, just an angry brat brashly striking out at everyone. 

Killian put on a pedantic smile, causing Nil to immediately start shifting in his place like a child. "Why wouldn't I? I only create chaos, and with no master that means I can strike against you too. Your damnable father may not be here, but I can still hurt you," he drawled, a bit of The Darkness in his voice for finesse. 

_What are you doing, what **ARE YOU DOING**? _

"Then you're useless to me. It's lucky I don't believe you." Nil smiled with a menacing edge. "We'll just leave you here for safekeeping until I can verify this unfortunate and convenient tragedy. My betrothed is a beautiful specimen and so strong, it's hard to believe she isn't ferreted away somewhere. Her tenacity knows no bounds, yet again like my beloved Mother. I love that fighting spirit, she will make a strong future king, as it is written." Walking to a large flat piece of iron and picking it up from the floor, the sheet rolled like paper in his glowing hands until it crafted into a large curved spike. 

There was a sharp pain in his chest as the U bend of the makeshift iron anchor broke through the skin of his back, cracking ribs. Killian groaned, falling back, but Nil was there, standing on top of the iron contraption and pushing it deeper. Pushing the other side of heavy iron through his ribcage, Killian felt the air escape his lungs in a choking rasp, forcing him to double over, while Nil gave him a hard push into the sea. 

_You've killed us both you fool. I hope you're happy. _

"We don't die. I'm content to lie at the bottom of the sea if that means another does not have the same fate as Milah. I meant what I said."

_You will know true agony for this. Your insolence has been a problem, but this? This you will suffer for; this you will know true pain for. _

"Aye, I'm sure of it. For now, enjoy the water for the both of us."

The dark pressure seemed endless, and the pain was constant, but it cleared his thoughts. Killian of the Blackwater, left to sit in the blackest depths forevermore. The Darkness writhed and cajoled and raged, but nothing it did could disturb his peace, the idea of penance weighing heavier than the cold, deep nothingness. 

He wondered if this was what Liam felt. The thought didn't hurt him this time. 

The anchor dragged along the sand at the bottom, drawing another sound that escaped in bubbles. More pain burned through him as his lungs filled with water. Stars lit behind his eyes, bright pops of color flashing in time with the stabs of pain. Hours passed like this, his thoughts just as full with briny water as he tried not to think about how long this torture would continue. A firework lit in his mind as the anchor hit a rock, sending reverberating shocks through his body. He wished vainly for the darkness to take him instead of the bursts of brightness. 

But no, the light would not go away. It became a pinpoint, then a glow that was warmer and more comforting than anything he thought he would know, growing to spread through him. He cracked open his eyes to see what he thought was a fierce angel, or quite possibly a nymph or siren, who swam before him encased in bright sunshine shimmers of light with a halo around her head and wearing Emma’s face. 

There was no mockery, for which he thanked the heavens; she simply lifted him, felt the iron, and dropped him suddenly. Tentacles wrapped around the thickest bend of the molded metal, wood crashing around them as the strange suction cup dotted arms yanked. Then, the weight in his chest loosened and he was flying, finally free. It was too much; he flew too high and too fast, falling just as quickly, his eyes shut tightly. 

He fell on something hard, forcing him to cough up water as he raised himself on his side. Soft hands pushed hair out of his face, and something warm crashed into him against where the iron had been. He groaned as whatever it was that had settled against him. A person? When he let out a breath, the person - yes, it was definitely a person - began hitting him.

They stopped suddenly, and after no other smacks came for several moments he opened his eyes to see Emma staring back at him with worry, concern, and anger filling her own gaze. 

"You fucking idiot!" she screamed. "You -" 

"You know that I can't die, right? I'm a survivor.” 

"You still… Even if… If you had been _hurt_, hurt worse than this I mean, I… Why did you do that? I had a plan, and you - you bought us so much more time, I should have let you - I should have trusted - We couldn't have done this without you, I just…" Emma swiped at her eyes. "_Why_ would you, you absolute…" 

Trying to sit up and practically toppling them both, he groused wryly at her noise of concern. "Maybe I just needed reminding that I could be on the hero's side, or maybe I knew you would never let me get off that easy and without yelling at me, you stubborn - " 

Emma hit him lightly again, her voice laced with strained amusement and lessening terror. "Don't move. Just stop, don't move, you arrogant ass."

"Princess, you deprive me of a dashing rescue, and then add insult to injury - "

"Emma. Please, I…" She straightened her shoulders and began to laugh, his grin at her not helping. Her voice cracked when she tried to start talking, and though she cleared her throat, she could not hide the tremble. "I think, Emma is just fine. Or I quite liked when you called me Swan." 

"Hey, hey now," he soothed, and when he laid a hand on her cheek she turned her face into his palm, holding her own hand against his. Emma couldn't hold back a shaky breath as a few tears escaped, and he pulled her tightly to him. "Hey. Don't cry. I'm the one who was gravely injured. It was about time you saved me from almost drowning, even though I technically cannot. We'll count it as one to three, with me in the lead. You can't steal that too, Swan." 

Her hiccupping laugh and weak wristed smack made him snort. The wound in his back closed, the Darkness ever keeping him alive, even as it still stopped short of his hand. Finally, Killian allowed himself to look around. They were on an old style ship, a light fleet frigate possibly, with no one else in sight. It felt vaguely familiar, but so did simply being at sea. Emma shuddered against him, cold and most likely exhausted as he pressed her for details. 

"What happened to Nil's armada?" 

"Your claim that I was dead caused the Goblin Prince to throw a full-on tantrum, leaving his own ship by portal. The mages he left in charge couldn't control Triton when whittled down in numbers. By the time Nil came back with his father, Triton was free, Ursula was laying waste to anything with Goblins on board, and the Selkies were free and trying to heal their wounded while regrouping. Ursula threw us on this ship after we looked for you, and the two of them destroyed Nil’s entire armada. Nil escaped through a portal at the last second, though. I watched through your telescope." Emma blushed lightly, pulling away from him. "Ursula said this ship will mean something to you, but I don't recognize it other than it being the one we used today. It's sort of a hodge-podge of Mer-craftsmanship; a frigate, speed sloop, galleon, and tall ship all crammed together. The base and bunks seem to be mostly the galleon? It's that ship Eric pulled out of the water before -"

"Liam's ship," he breathed. "My ship."

"I thought yours was The Jewel of the Realm? This one says something about being Jolly." She pointed over the edge, and he joined her to peer over. In sloppy carved graffiti, some sea dwelling mer-miscreant had replaced the clean script of the Fae Navy with 'The Jolly Roger'. 

Killian couldn't find it in himself to be angry, instead laughing as he crossed to the stern, feeling the same breeze that his brother and he had felt, the sea immediately calming him. Emma had only made this all the better, expending any magic she hadn't used drying their supplies and the ship's hold. Once waterlogged books filled with his brother's notes were crisp and clean, and a patina worn sextant looked almost like new on a pristine desk. Opening a trunk, he found naval uniforms pressed for a day's work, closing the lid after running his fingers over the brass buttons and fringed epaulets on the shoulders. 

Then there were the other ships, the pieces of other wrecks merged to what was his, that made up the crooked interior, filled with casks and casks of glorious rum. 

He created a small fire in the tiny galley, heating it with the butter they had left, still in Ingrid's strange plastic pastel container, before joining Emma on the deck with two cups as she arranged blankets. 

"How's your hand?" Emma asked, watching him settle. 

He gave a shrug, trying to mask the fire coursing through his bent fingers. "S'fine." 

He took a heavy swig, the rum doing nothing to help the pain in his hand. Emma rolled her eyes and crawled beside him, taking his cold palm in hers. "Which means 'it hurts' in High Killian. You're _truly_ a terrible liar."

"The Goblin believed me when I told them you were dead." 

"Barely, and I mean, case and point." Emma smirked, her magic glowing softly. 

Killian barked out a laugh, and her magic spread, his hand stopping its searing throbs. He sighed in relief, and picked up a steaming mug. 

"Any idea where we're off to?" he asked. Emma sighed wearily. 

"I haven't had much more that a moment while you looked around yourself, but I believe we’re in this general vicinity." She spread out a large map that he had not noticed, unrolling it and pinning it down with a few stones she must have found in Liam's collection. Amethyst and a chunk of bismuth glittered at each corner. Emma pointed with the ends of a navigational compass to a location in the blue defined area she had made a circle around. "The stars aren't great right now, but I remember them well enough to find the cardinal points. There was a current map where I found this, and based on the stars and our speed, I think this is our trajectory if we're seeking the closest shore to land on." She tapped a small speck on the map with the compass, some unmarked island. 

Killian raised an eyebrow, remarkably impressed. "You know marine navigation?" 

Emma shrugged, with a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Even a proper noblewoman needs hobbies."

"I'm beginning to believe that you aren't the most proper of noblewomen, Swan."

"My reputation is ruined, you'll have to seek out other debutantes to fill your season."

He was caught off guard by her quip, and laughed in surprise, her giggling joining his. He brushed a finger over one of her lines on the map. "This is going to take some time, if you're right. Have you been at sea for any length of time?" 

Emma shook her head, and sighed. "No. The sea wasn't a place for a princess." Her tone was sour, and she looked at him with the glint of irritation he'd begun to notice was present when she spoke about the ridiculous notions of the royals. 

"Well, now it seems it is." He gave her a wink, and her cheeks flushed a deep red, the rum seemingly warming her further. "We'll be in close quarters, especially with what a mess of mismatched parts below deck is. Stay off my toes, and we'll be fine."

Looking at him with a cocked head and an amused expression, she gave a mock salute while imitating his accent. "Aye aye, Captain, sir."

He grimaced, and downed his rum. The Darkness had quieted again, probably due to her close proximity and how her magic seemed to target it lately. 

Emma took another large swig of rum, her skin heating with a visible flush. Killian grinned at her, taking the mug down to pour more for them. When he handed it to her, she took another swig, seeming to savor the burn in her throat and warmth in her belly. Giggling, she let herself fall back onto the blankets they had laid across the deck. 

"The last time I was this drunk was when I kissed you," she laughed, rolling onto her side clumsily to look at him. "After we escaped Pann."

"You were much more drunk then," he laughed back before realization dawned on him. "Wait, you remember that?"

"Yeah, and you lying about it." Her grin was playful, and she laid her head down to hide half her face in the blankets. Killian felt his ears heat, and tried not to choke on anymore of the rum. "Why did you, anyway?"

"I didn't - it was obvious you were out of sorts, just…"

"Knackered? Foxed? Three shades to the wind?" Emma giggled, and when he didn't return the laugh she reached for him. "I didn't mean to upset you, I definitely shouldn't have done that. I mean, I don't regret it, because it was nice and you have nice lips and a nice face, and - " She rambled, and his eyebrow raised. She let out a groan and covered her mouth. 

"A drunken mind speaks a sober - " he chuckled awkwardly, Emma reaching to push him softly before he could finish the proverb. There was a part of him that felt strange, full of pride, while all at once wistful. 

"Shut up," she whined, her blush making her eyes more green. "We will never speak of this again."

"Not a word from my nice lips about it again, I swear it." Miming zipping his lips, Emma groaned once more, falling back into the blankets again while laughing. Her laughter, being out at sea, the rum - it was heady when mixed with the thought of the way she had felt. There was no way he could admit anything more than that to himself, let alone Emma. 

Later he checked her coordinates against the constellations, both of them looking at the stars and looking over the map by candlelight. Emma fell asleep as he began to work in silence and he coaxed her to take a pillow to lay her head on, the quiet snoring lasting for a few hours. 

She tossed and turned under the blanket, briefly scaring him with the suddenness of her flailing. 

"Emma? Are you alright?" 

"Don't touch me, please don't touch - " she startled awake, throwing her body away from his own. With hazy eyes filled with tears, Emma scrunched into her frame just as he saw her do within Ursula's realm, magic leaving her in waves. "Nil, no, please don't - "

The first few bursts of magic caught him off guard, hitting him squarely in the chest. The third he tried to roll away from as it hit his hip, the movement fully pulling her from the night terror. 

Her breathing was rapid and unsteady, as she murmured an apology, fingers twisting her hair. 

She looked exhausted, and Killian wondered again when the last time she had gotten proper rest was. Approaching carefully, he wrapped her in the blanket she had thrown off, helping her to stand. 

"Go sleep in the bunk. It will be more comfortable for you," Killian whispered, and Emma let him tuck a stray piece of her hair behind her ear, his skin meeting the softness of her cheek. He nodded to the hatch, helping her down the ladder until she closed the latch behind her. Sitting down on the deck to look over the maps again, he attempted to rub out the twinge in his chest that had begun to ache from where her magic had dealt its blows. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

_The dress for the evening of this ball is beautiful, and fits her like a glove as she twirls for her father. He's happier than she has seen him in a long time, eyes crinkled at the corners, watching her like she is the most important thing in the world as she shows him the intricate crystal work that glitters in the light. _

_Her mother hugs her from behind, a rare warm gesture rather than the iciness that Emma is used to in their relationship, decorum and etiquette frowning on displays of affection. The green velvet of her mother's gown smells like moss, pine, sweet grass, and fresh snow as her mother rests her head on Emma's shoulder. _

_Her father twirled her again, and they're at the ball. As unsure as she is what this party commemorates, the food and drink do not disappoint, nor does the selection of dance partners. A warm set of hands covers her eyes, and she can feel the press of a person against her back but it isn't unwelcome at all. Instead she feels the roughness of his palms, stubble against her neck, warm breath in her ear, and Killian’s voice. _

_"I have a surprise for you, darling," he whispers, and Emma feels her stomach flip like it had once with Graham. To her surprise, she feels trust and a sense of peace that he is with her here, and grins at his gift. The music goes silent in the ballroom, along with the guests, as if a great breath has snuffed everything out. "No peeking now…" Killian’s hands fall away and she screws her eyes tightly shut. _

_A finger traces her exposed spine, and she giggles, the nail sharp against her skin while feathers soften its trail. Although not completely unpleasant, it feels off the longer and further it goes, and she shivers as she leans away from the touch. The person behind her wraps their arms around her tightly, making it impossible to move while trailing their nails down her exposed skin. Emma struggles, and she feels a sickeningly familiar giggle rumble through the chest against her back. _

_This wasn't Killian any longer. She keeps her eyes shut, trying to wish away the sour smelling breath against the junction of her throat. _

_"Open your eyes, my beautiful wife, my queen to rival all queens. Open your eyes and behold my gift to you," Nil hisses, dragging his tongue along her shoulder blade. _

_Despite trying to clench her eyes shut with everything in her power, they are forced open to the light of the ballroom, twinkling lights that briefly blind then illuminate the bodies on the patterned floor. Crimson puddles lay around the courtiers as they themselves laid too still, livery soaking up the blood. Emma lets out a cry, running and slipping in the pools, her skirts and slippers filling with wet warmth, the taste of copper on her tongue. _

_Her parents slumped in their thrones, eyes and mouths open too wide, and Emma hears herself now as she chokes out moans, her voice too small but so loud in the silence that permeates in the absence of life. From behind her father's throne, Killian appears, his hands and face drenched in the same red that blooms from her parents necks while he wipes his sword on his waistcoat. _

_His face contorts in a sinister grin that only widens when he catches her horrified gaze, his eyes flickering to the floor. His eyes that are terribly, and awfully sad. _

_Emma turns back to Nil, his smile akin to Killian’s own, the dagger in his grip as Killian takes a place slightly behind him like a prostrate lap dog. Emma shakes her head, falling to her knees. _

_"Do you not like my gift, my radiant queen? I wanted something that left an impression as your last sight before the Darkness of your new life begins." Nil cocks his head, moving to her to lift her chin. Emma feels tears stream down her cheeks. "You will learn to love the Darkness, just as you will learn to love me, and love what I have done for you. Come, wife. Come."_

_The ballroom disappears around her as the world goes black, the floor falling away to leave her tumbling into the abyss. She lands on a soft surface, hands scrambling to feel around and escape. Her arms tangle in silken sheets as pillows, down, and bedding seemed to hold her, realizing she's landed in a bed that is not her own. The bedding fabric tightens around her wrists and ankles, forcing her body into a prone position, forcing her into a vulnerable position, even as she struggles in the dark. A rustling catches her attention, her body tense as she tries to place where the noise came from. She could see nothing in the gloom, no matter how much she tried. Nil's voice slithered through the murk. _

_"You're home now, my magnificent queen. Home and safely held, to get you acclimated to life here, to the absence of light." The sound of fabric falling to the ground came from her left, followed by dragging footsteps echoing across the space, Emma's breath coming in panicked gasps. _

_She feels the creak of the bed near her feet, a knee against her calf as a feathered hand slid up her thigh. Emma pleads for him to stop, desperately trying to get away from his touch. _

_Nil's voice is silky against her hip. "You'll get used to this too, not that I mind. Fighting makes a better future king."_

_Screams ripped from her throat and he pulled away, hissing at the noise. "Dark One! Hold her mouth silent!"_

_Killian appears through the darkness, leaning over her as she begs and pleads for this to stop. His eyes glow blue, and they are still so sad as his hand covers her mouth, muffling her voice. He looks close to tears, like he's breaking himself, his hand trembling against her lips while he tries to comfort her even as Nil returns to her thigh._

_"Emma, I'm so sorry, Emma, shhhhh, please." The room grows brighter, his eyes are brighter and he is clenching his jaw in fury. Emma can feel the light coming back, but Nil's hands press on, too close to where they should never be, and her begging gets louder along with Killian’s voice right above her, "Emma, are you alright?" _

_And no, she isn't, but the room is gone and he's saved her, eyes blue in her blurry vision - _

Waking up in terror after the rum had worn off, Emma had hoped for more sleep, but even the alcohol was unable to combat her nightmare on the deck. The dream continued to plague her, pieces of it making her breath catch until it fades. Killian was in her dreams more frequently since his return, both ambivalent and malicious in each turn. Killian had helped her down into those chambers, and although she still was slightly hazy, it was a welcome change. 

It was odd to be in the room of a person that had changed into a stranger inside his own skin, the remaining discarded bits of what was a life scattered in disarray. Lighting a candle, she looked at the open trunk and the uniform placed reverently over a desk chair, letting her fingers run along the buttons and brush the fringe of the epaulets. The books she had pulled earlier were still out, and she opened dog eared pages, surprised by the different sets of handwriting in the margins.

Sturdy, block text that reminded her of laws and bills that her parents had to sign underlined passages, while a flowery script poked fun at those footnotes. The flowery text seemed to enjoy more poetry and philosophy, which the block text had teased heavily. Based on what she knew, Liam and Killian respectively were the authors, Killian’s text much more chaotic and flamboyant. Another hand's script had joined later, letters beautiful and words softly pushed together. It wrote love notes in the corners, or bracketed passages, occasionally a watercolor picture left tucked neatly in the pages where they wrote paragraphs. Milah, Emma assumed. 

Killian had once painted, she discovered after finding a ribbon bound stack of his work. Pictures of Milah were his main focus, then the water, landscapes, and animals. His work was humorous and surreal on occasion too, and Emma wondered what that man had been like, before everything happened. He had been different then, and it made her feel anxious and vulnerable to wonder if that man was still buried somewhere within the tortured soul she now kept company with. 

Stripping to her shift to combat the last of summer's heat, she laid down on the bunk, surprised at the luxurious nature of the bedding. Here in the cabin, she could better hear the water, waves rocking the ship. Later, she heard his footfalls, opening her eyes briefly as he whispered that she was alright, stroking her hair gently. 

Emma could feel the remnants of the dream, the same as before and the same that had haunted her since she had found herself in Ursula's domain. He kept on with his soothing until the tension in her shoulders fell away, the traced patterns against her scalp in sync with the waves. The ghost of the old Killian still remained, she mused smiling sleepily, the one she could trust. She fell immediately back to sleep, resting for the first time in weeks and dreaming of home. 


	11. ix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I put out a blurb of something that happens (due to editing and additions to clarify some things) either next chapter (hopefully) or two chapters from now.
> 
> The build up is worth it, I promise - it has a much better pay off when you get character motivation and see that slow burn start to kindle a flame. Stay with me, we're almost there.

** _ _ **

** _The Palace, The Royal and Courtiers Barracks _ **

Watching carefully as the guards inspected the large chamber that had once been the ballroom, Regina hid the various healing potions she had been able to make in the folds of her ruined dress. The Goblins never paid her much attention when they investigated where Snow cared for David and the rest of the Fae royalty lay. There was always the chance of separation from the rest of the remaining groups; the Elves and Pixies still remained, but the Anisapi had been caged cruelly, and no one knew where the sea folk were. Regina could only hope the infiltrating force used the pool they had commissioned for long stays to house those who needed water, but sense was beyond many of the creatures that leered at them over iron lancets. 

The Goblin’s head of the guard was bear-like in stature, shoulders, and arms, but his haunches were ape like, ending in a lizard tail that was like a bull whip. They called him Ghi, but no one knew or wanted to confirm if that truly was his name. He was cruel beyond belief, spilling boiling water on hungry Fae that waited in line for the paltry rice they were given or whipping his tail out to strike those who were sleeping. Snow did her best to be a bastion of hope and courage, but Regina had once been her enemy - she could tell the Queen's resolve was weakening. 

Among the worst of the casualties had been a great majority of Elementals, including the Hol, who were collected in an ancient looking hat by the King of the Goblins; the swiftness and cruelty of the act shocking everyone as they disappeared into its depths. Or most of them, anyway. Several of the young Hol had taken forms of other Fae, looking completely indeterminable from them to blend in. One such couple was Henry and his pregnant bride Jacinda, who watched as they became among the last of their kind. The remainder prayed that was not the case, and the hat did not spell out death to those within. 

Regina had vowed to get them out at that moment, sharing a heavy stare of understanding with Henry as Jacinda buried her face in his chest. Henry had spent so much time with them when he had stayed in their company, taking a similar aged appearance (and demeanor) to that of the princess. Even then, there was still a seriousness behind his eyes that betrayed his true nature. Regina was constantly trying to lighten it. He reminded her of her childhood friend Daniel in his appearance, and in some ways, though she was loathe to admit it, had become a surrogate for the child she had longed for with the man Daniel had become before the war killed him. 

Regina had taken her thoughts to Henry, trying to figure out any way they could scrape together enough magic for the couple to escape, but Henry had been adamant that Regina go instead. 

"The princess would be better served with a familiar face and resourceful teacher," Henry had argued. "And you are from there, you could help recruit allies."

Knowing the stubbornness in both Henry and herself, the reality of having no waiting friends in that forsaken realm, and knowing the risk his wife took every day she stayed in the palace under the insurgency, Regina finally agreed. 

Snow had asked to assist, and Regina was thankful for that; it could do the Queen well to fight back in any way she could. Her hope was a powerful thing. 

With the King still suffering from his head wound and the incurred confusion that came with it, Ruby volunteered to be Snow’s partner. She was amazing at navigation, easily memorizing the patrols of the guards, and alternative routes in the long corridors and pathways of the castle. The supply running would not be a thing without her; in the almost month of the occupation, her help with Granny in the kitchen and quick tongue keeping her two steps ahead of trouble had been monumental. Her other skill of bringing news or word of mouth back to them had been able to bolster hope on occasion as well. 

The question was more along the lines of if Henry, Jacinda, and Regina could manage enough magic to make the portal work, the magic dampening field heavily still in effect. Regina had been draining herself to save for either an attack or for sending Snow to Emma's side, but had not collected enough herself to even come near even the most meager supply for most spells. Henry was a Hol, portals through time, dimensions, and space were their specialty. So while this should be easy enough for him in theory, reality was another matter entirely. 

"So. We'll go to the old shared bath, make a portal, and Jacinda and Regina will go through, leaving Henry to close it?" Snow had whispered to Ruby and her as they crowded into a corner. Regina nodded, but Snow could see the doubt play on her face. Enemies once, and better discerning friends now. 

"Don't," Regina warned. 

"But, what about Emma? If it's not you, how will she have protection or even an ally in that place -" Snow started, looking upset. 

"It's better this way. I have faith, and you of all people should too," Regina snapped. After a moment Snow nodded slowly. 

The noise of a male voice from the shadows startled them. 

"I want to go too," Locksley whispered. Regina looked at him with confusion. "I can protect you, and give you all a better chance, defending the portal and Henry as you depart." 

"Why would you -" Regina started, but Ruby interrupted. 

"That's a good idea," she said quickly. "Robin is excellent at setting traps and defensive tactics. Every run I've been on with him goes smoothly. We need him."

Regina scoffed, the feeling of growing dread in her stomach. If he got hurt…

_ If a Goblin ripped into him with claws or iron, she would have lost another; another just like -  _

"Fine. Stay out of my way, and for fuck’s sake don't get hurt. We need you around here. You keep morale strong with the men with Charming being injured," Regina hissed, pushing her finger into his face. He didn't flinch, his face dispassionate but his eyes still so full of humor she wanted to smack it out of him. None of this was funny, him being here trapped and constantly pushing his luck, running to get her supplies with Ruby, his help with getting soup fed to the sick or cheerful demeanor helping a day seem brighter, bringing flowers to the Fae who missed the outside… The way he saved an Iris for her, unable to speak when she glared at him and asked why he didn't get something more useful. 

Her heart thundered in regret that she had acted in annoyance with him… 

Getting close to someone in war-time was something that only fools did. 

It was settled and in the morning, Henry sat among them with his wife, the plan retold. Jacinda tried not to cry, not taking the proposed separation from her husband well. Henry had reassured her again and again that he would be fine, that he would find a way to her and their child as soon as possible. Regina had felt the fear shown on Jacinda’s face before, the way she couldn't stop touching him as if any moment he might disappear. How precious their moments left together were. It was hard to look at Henry sometimes when the memories of her own past threatened to overtake her. 

Time crawled slowly towards evening, Ruby returning from the kitchen with the small smoke starters, a grease crayon, chalk, and herbs they would need. Regina gave Snow the smoke starters, before the group did last minute preparation for their hasty exit. Locksley touched her shoulder lightly, and she whipped around to look at him. He was smiling slightly, or his lips were always upturned she couldn't tell which, but he licked them nonetheless. 

"Be safe, and if I don't get to tell you before you go M'lady, goodbye. Fare well out there. You'll be missed." His smile turned sad, and maybe the glitter in his eye wasn't mirth after all, she wondered as his hands gathered hers, and placed a kiss on the top of her own. 

"I - Locksley I - " Snow signaled, and Regina pulled away, unable to tell him, unable to say anything really, before catching her breath. Returning to her steel demeanor, she nodded curtly. "Thanks."

Turning on her heel, she heard his footsteps fall a few steps behind her. 

The halls were dark, but Locksley and Ruby led them through as if sunshine streamed through the broken glass of the windows. They made it almost halfway when they were stopped for a break for poor Jacinda. She breathed heavily, Henry pouring her water, and whispering quiet adoration. A Goblin sentry got too close, and Snow pulled away with her smoke starters. They sprung to life spraying smoke and heat, the taste of hickory and apple wood heavy in the air. The rest of the group slowly snuck away, watching as Snow was clamped in irons. 

They ran faster down strange, far older, if not ancient, parts of the palace that seemed to be stacked on top of each other; the Roman style columns appeared in more frequent measure along with tapestries from forgotten parties, and decorative busts of old rulers. 

"This way, hurry," Ruby whispered, pulling them down another darkened passage. Jacinda huffed, her pregnant body shaking, causing Regina and Locksley to share a look. Ruby signaled for them to keep moving, Snow's distractions loud but very distant now, continually popping and squealing through the air. 

She led them further into the bowels of the castle, opening the old bathing room's doors with a loud crack, dust and cobwebs pouring from the abandoned space. Henry and Locksley shut the door tightly behind them, Ruby running back to help head off any guards. Henry let Jacinda collapse against him, gently guiding her forward 

"Are you sure this will work, Madame Mí -" 

"Please. Always Regina for you, and nothing else. Formality be damned Henry. Now help me get this circle drawn or however you Hol do it." Regina's voice was clipped as she tried to keep the emotion inside her from falling through, her body on edge. 

Locksley sat with Jacinda, speaking quietly and soothing the woman as Henry helped Regina sketch out a giant set of glyphs in various sized circles. When she went to wipe sweat from her brow, Locksley was looking at her intently, watching her with a look she wished could be outside her imagination. Not since Daniel died in the war and she had turned tail to Snow's banners had anyone ever looked at her like that. She surely was wishing for something there that wasn't; she was terrible, unkind, and cold. There was no room for any of his light in the darkened place she mourned Daniel in. 

"Regina. Regina, I need your magic now," Henry said and she snapped out of her thoughts, both of them letting their dampened magic slowly pool into the runes. "Once we get through the barriers and get the portal open, take Jacinda to Agrabah and wait for the princess there. Jacinda should be able to get a message to the princess that you both are waiting for her -" 

"Henry, I'm not going with you," Regina said icily, and Locksley's head snapped up to look at them, something strange flickering across his features. 

"Regina, that's not what -" Henry started but she poured her magic onto the runes with a sharp look, interrupting him. 

"I have loved you like the son I never had, and I have loved only one other with even more ferocity. He promised me that he would make it back to me, but he -" she choked, unable to finish the sentence. 

"Regina -" Henry cried, and she was reminded too much of the wise old man he was, hidden in the form of a child, and now the child he was, hidden in the form of a man. 

"He didn't come home. I won't let the same happen to you, or your wife. That is my promise, and what I've sworn over his memory, and what I'll have you swear on mine." Regina let the tear fall down her cheek, her hard stare met by Henry's own. 

A soft hand touched her own, magic pouring into the glyphs. Jacinda cried openly, hugging her tightly. "I swear it. Thank you. Thank you, words are not - thank you."

Henry shook his head, the portal beginning to open, his own magic pouring into it. There was suddenly wind in the room, swirling dust and dirt as the portal grew larger. "Who will close it then when we are gone? Regina, you -" 

"I will," she said fiercely back, stumbling over to him. Hugging him tightly, she felt his body sag, his own tears falling. "Now go. Live your life. Tell Emma how we are, and make sure she is safe for me. Tell her we have never lost faith in her."

Henry nodded, and pulled away from her, grasping Jacinda's hand as they stepped into the brightening light. 

Raising her hands, Regina began closing the portal, Locksley's eyes trained on her. 

"You can still go," he yelled, pointing to the slowly closing portal. "I'll close it. Go be with your family -" 

"You're not strong enough. I have to do this, this is my last -" 

The doors to the bath shuddered, dust coming off them in waves as something heavily barreled against them. Locksley pushed a heavy column in front of them as a huge burly arm clawed through, the bear claws making huge marks in the stone. 

"Go, please Regina. I can't stand to see you -" 

"No! They deserve a happy ending, and Gods be damned, I will make sure that they get it!" Regina yelled, screaming as she closed the portal, and falling backwards in a stumble. 

From behind her, she felt the explosion of rock and to the side saw Locksley screaming her name as she turned. A flaming chain caught her, the iron spikes tearing through her dress and skin, fire and the iron itself burning her whole body, the heat unbearable and suffocating. 

Fire raced down her back and arms, Locksley letting out a roar of anger as he barreled into the Goblin with the iron. Regina heard him approach her side as he pulled away the chain with burning hands, gathering her against him tightly as flames licked her skin, burning away the side of her cheek, her hair, the last sound she heard before the nothingness came to douse the inferno was Locksley in her ear, praying. 

"Please, please, stay alive. Please. I need you to know how I feel about you, please. I should have told you, Gods, hear me, please keep her alive. She deserves a happy ending, too."

The bear armed Goblin jostled her back to consciousness, his great paw making Robin howl in pain. 

"Let go of her!" the monster roared, and Regina felt her face sticky and wet, stuck to Robin's shirt, to Robin forever, for as long as this forever lasted. She felt him shaking, his legs barely lifting himself as he carefully cradled her. The eye not pressed against the cotton shirt could barely see, but she could make out his gentle happiness at her blinking up at him. 

"Ghi is it? You can take us both in front of the Goblin King or try and kill us yourself, but I will sing to my death about how the mighty King's Guard let two Fae create a portal for ten, fifty, _maybe_ one hundred secret, uncaptured elementals to go through under his watch. I mean, it could be any amount, you certainly didn't see and neither did your men... Only we know the actual number. And if I start singing it, funny thing about the Fae - the rest will be singing it louder by tomorrow if we're gone." Robin raised his chin defiantly, the Bear, Ape, Lizard, and Fae creature snorting in derision. It scratched its head angrily before pacing, and then roaring a furious howl. 

It let Robin inch past, the other Goblins poking him with their spears, oblivious to their leaders moment of self preservation. 

Regina didn't remember passing out again until she woke to Snow and Robin fussing over her face, the pain making her cry out as they spread wet gauze over the burns. 

"Regina," Robin breathed out, holding her hand in his. 

She tried to stay with them, but couldn't manage much more than a squeeze of his hand before she couldn't handle any more of the pain. In the dark, she heard his voice again and again, never far from her side. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

** _The Jolly Roger, Somewhere in the Ocean _ **

The trip to the closest Fae-safe island as marked by Ariel or some other Selkie was to say the least, long. Killian had counted months at sea in the Navy with Liam, training and traveling, but staying in a cloaked current with temperamental elements that sat long unused had not been a normal occurrence then. It was unexpected but not surprising that the princess, ever practical and studious, was better on the seas than many of the sea dogs he had once served with. Emma picked up on knots and nets for fishing with ease, her skin soaking up the sun that was left during the increasingly shorter days. She didn't grumble about rationing, colder nights, or the hard work of sailing by themselves, but did grow frustrated with weather blowing them further off course than she had estimated. 

If anything at all surprised him about her behavior, it was how often she let herself be without company, sitting and star gazing or weaving repairs for the nets. He would find her humming softly and simply reading under the sails while he tried not to ask for her attention. When he hinted at his surprise, Emma had told him it was the first time that she had really felt free, but also felt small amid the scheme of everything. The sea and sky had a strange way of doing that to a person. 

Even then, she was ever perceptive or somehow inanely aware of when he desired her ear or presence, finding him and settling nearby. They had discussions about lighter topics, especially more academic material, both concreting his allying with her. She was a voracious reader and had read many of the books Liam had amassed, sometimes reading them again to see the notes scrawled in the margins of pages. 

Eventually, she began to read to him and Killian did his best to reciprocate. The Darkness had been eerily quiet, skittish even. Emma's magic and its erratic output caused it to creep out only to do its damage before scuttling off again. Emma never asked how his bones broke or why he was in pain, and he was thankful for that. She healed his hand regularly, and he noticed that she would lend more of her magic to help him recover from its abuse. 

Her nightmares, or the recurring nightmare variations to be more specific, were the only thing that she seemed to be unable to combat. They took her sleep without mercy, and as the journey dragged on and his soothing became hourly, Emma began to suffer from intense insomnia. Although Killian was uncomfortable with asking, he pressed her to tell him about the dreams, and the few details she divulged made much more sense as to why anything was preferable to sleep. 

It shocked him how much he genuinely wanted her to feel relief, and the Darkness whispered reasoning in his mind that did make sense. 

_ She needs to be alert to help navigate.  _

_ Her being tired makes for a weakness if a battle happens.  _

_ If a storm happens, can she be trusted to stay alive while barely half awake?  _

_ If she doesn't sleep she could grow ill -  _

But the professed fear was their underlying the true concern :

_ and then the shard is gone.  _

Even rum had stopped helping the princess, only making the terrors worse and more frenetic when she began to thrash about. When Killian hadn't seen her sleep in a full sundown to sundown, he stopped her from leaving the deck, forcing her to lie down as he laid blankets and pillows around her. 

"You need to rest," he said, and even her glare was exhausted. Her eyes were red, and the purplish yellow bruiselike bags under her eyes were deep. 

She didn't bother arguing, only laid down as he sat nearby watching her. Things were silent for some time, but she stared up at the sky instead of falling asleep. 

After a moment, Emma's hoarse voice broke the silence. 

"I don't… Where do you go?" The last part of her words fell off in a whimpered sob. 

Killian did not turn to look at her, but cleared his throat. "What do you mean, lass?"

"How do you… Where do you go that it's not… When do you not see everything over and over in your head, when are you rid of the nightmares, when is it safe? Where do I go to get through seeing Elsa die or Nil - or Nil's depravity, knowing that she… I… What has happened and could, what Nil wants to do to my family, what he wants to do to me! Please, tell me how to -" 

"You don't. You don't escape it. It sits on your chest and shoulders until you forget how you ever breathed before. I'm… I'm sorry. You shouldn't have learned this lesson just now, it's…" he rasped in a whisper, gritting it through his teeth. "Loss is common. This world is full of terrible and horrible things. You've been lucky enough to be spared."

_ Because she's spoiled, a royal brat and the reason why you lost everything, everyone -  _

"It isn't her fault!" Killian gritted, squeezing his eyes shut tight, his temples pulsing at the pressure in his head. To his astonishment, she did not ask about who he spoke to and instead moved behind him slightly, dragging the blankets with her. Her cool fingers ran across the back of his ears, her fingertips placed in a way that eased the pressure in his head with their own, slow circles that melted all thoughts away into relief. The Darkness fell away, its shrieking dulled and then vanishing completely. 

Killian let out a sigh of relief, letting himself fall back slightly. 

She tugged on the roots of his hair, gently scraped his scalp and massaged from the crown of his head in a side to side motion down to the nape of his neck. He didn't feel her magic as it crept across his skin, easing onto his being as he began dozing. 

"I'm sorry, Killian," he heard Emma whisper, too tired to answer and stunned that he was falling asleep. The first time he woke, Emma had laid a blanket over him, and placed a pillow under his head. She was close, they were almost touching which hadn't happened since she left him in the woods. She was sleeping, but her breathing was irregular, and he leaned over in concern. 

She was crying in gasps, knees bent to hold her face, and arms wrapped tightly around her frame under the thick quilt. Without questioning if it was untoward, from fear of her waking after finally resting or just their general apathy on matters of each other's comfort in the small space, Killian gently wrapped an arm around her, listening for any sign of discomfort. 

Instead Emma rolled herself into him, his arm wrapping tightly around her as he adjusted the quilts to cover both of them. She settled back to sleep and he joined her again with a sigh. 

The second came when Emma thrashed in his arms, waking him suddenly to her terrified whimpers. Her eyes rapidly rolled behind her eyelids, and her body was tense, muscles locked while she began to cry. Whatever she dreamt, the nightmare was recurring and left her terrified. His chest began to hurt, listening to her breathing come in ragged gasps. 

"No!" came a whispered cry, and he stroked her hair, hushing her in his own sleepy confusion. "No, Nil, please don't -" 

His body tensed, her pleas, mere frightened murmurs, cut into him like the dagger would. Holding her tighter, he hummed gently, a song he didn't quite remember that his mother had sang when he and Liam were small. Her body relaxed in incremental stages, both of them falling asleep again in each other's gentle embrace. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The journey that had taken almost a month and a week, weather pressing down on them in the last legs of their sailing, was finally nearing its completion. They had seen sea birds flying without stopping to rest on their mast, and the map indicated they may even see land in the next few days. With one cask of rum left, and even without the butter they had used before, they celebrated on deck, the night cool and clear. 

Killian had been in higher spirits than Emma had ever seen him yet, teasing her and goading her into a clumsy sparring session that ended up with her fingers being whacked a few more times than normal. 

"You don't get drunk as fast as I do!" Emma whined, and his hand caught her attempt at a smack, twirling her instead. 

"Lies, Swan. You just did a perfect spin, your dancing is more instinct than your sword sometimes," he purred, and Emma let him lead her in a slow waltz, falling into it with careful thought. "You've gone quiet," he said after a moment. 

"I just..." She sighed, blowing hair out of her face with a huff. "You're right. It's because this is my default, I can fall back into this without being present, like so many events, parties, or the neverending balls I had to get through. Swordplay takes a second chair."

"Mmm. Well," Killian smirked, pulling her close, bodies pressed together far more intimately than is required of a proper waltz. "Not that I don't love to hear the sad stories of the poor princess -" 

"Oh, come on -" Emma hissed, rolling her eyes and trying to pull away. 

" - but I would never deny you a chance to actually be kept on your toes." He dipped her low, humming something she could not discern, something older and much more jaunty. Spinning her with expertise across the small space, Emma fell into his lead if you could call it that. He didn't follow one style of step, and any stiffness was met with a complicated step she had to focus on, until she was laughing at the ridiculous over exaggerated styles he forced her to partner with. 

Both Killian and her were out of breath when he threw her into a wild spin, bringing her in close to intertwine her fingers with his. Emma breathlessly giggled, closing her eyes to clear the dizziness away, her eyes shooting open in surprise when she leaned forward and their foreheads met. 

They swayed for a moment, until her slippered toes landed on something sharp. 

"Ow! What -" Emma cried out, looking down and lifting her foot. Her big toe was sore, but no blood seemed to be leaking. She turned to see Killian pick up a silver object with care, his face contorting into anger. The oval caught the light, bent and the chain falling away, something she had definitely seen before, but Killian was advancing with a growl of rage before she could ask. 

"Did you step on this, did you break this?" he screamed, his body movements sharp as he thrust the object into her vision. 

"Oh Gods, no," Emma whispered, hands covering her mouth. Milah's locket. The broken pendant's cover was pulled from the top, the open top showing the layers of silver, interlaced with a honey colored jewel against the back face. The clasp was pushed fully into itself, prying it apart would be the only way to open it. 

"Did you know it was broken? It's been in my pocket, I've kept it safe for  _ centuries _ -" 

"I didn't know, I swear to you that I didn't touch it and never would. I thought you lost it when Nil pushed you to the sea floor. Disrespecting her would be repugnant, I'd - I'd never. I promise you that I would never." Emma felt close to tears as he held the locket in his palm, the warped silver jammed shut. He traced a thumb over the filigree, and she could see the twisted vines, flowers, and small birds in the overgrown thicket that made up the design were worn smooth in places. 

"This is all I have left of her," he murmured, anger falling away. Emma shifted on her heels, and after a moment sat down in front of him. 

"I'm so sorry." 

"It's - don't concern yourself over it Princess. You have no idea what loss is."

“You're right, I don't in many ways, and didn't understand a lot until Elsa… but I do know how it feels to be alone. I had tutors, my parents, the courtiers and our subjects, but I was so isolated.” She blew out a sigh. “I only wish I had someone for me like you describe Liam, or Milah. Someone who even in the thick of the mess was always in your corner, and within arm's reach. You must miss them so terribly.”

“I do. Constantly. It's all for the worse that I killed him, and abandoned her.” 

“I don't believe that.”

“Well, believe what you like, but it's a bloody fact that I was with Liam before I fled to reach Milah to protect her. I found her gone and then, well. Then I… The Darkness and I…"

“You were not you. You can't blame yourself; you had no idea of what you were promising, what scratched at the door in the night. Both of them loved you so fiercely, if they loved you half as much as you say.”

“Poetic, but wrong. I wanted to destroy everything, and I did. Gods help me, I did, and I had no idea what everything meant.”

The waves lapped against the ship’s hull, the quiet on the sea not quiet at all. Emma spoke after a few minutes of careful contemplation. 

“Well, then. If it is your fault, which matters insofar that you believe it to be true, do you think Liam would forgive you knowing everything? Knowing that he was your older brother, and from every testament to his life I've heard, loved you beyond all reason? Or Milah, who held on to your locket the entire length of her time away from you?”

“Dead people don't forgive, Princess. They lie in the dirt and decompose.”

“I believe he would forgive you. And for what it's worth, I know Milah would have too. Nil is an awful, disgusting, pig of a creature, but nary a one has denied it being because of his father's influence.” Emma tried to take his hand, and he smacked it away, angrily. She recoiled, and her face fell, wishing she could comfort him in any way. 

“You go too far.” Killian’s voice caught, his eyes dark and hands shaking. Emma took his hand in her own with a resolute look, stabilizing the shaking of it, and he did not pull away. 

“Nil idolizes his mother. The entire kingdom of the Under Folk sing her praises. She was beloved, for being strong and fiercely loving, even to those who thought they were unworthy. Your brother was a man of honor, for the love for his kingdom, for the love of his lands, his list of achievements and sacrifices too long to name.” Emma smoothed her fingertips across his knuckles, trying to create calm. He looked at her and the anger fell away to a deep melancholy blue in the light that shone upon the deck, silver shards from the small flame she had conjured making them look like the stars. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

In the glow of the wisp light she had cast on deck, Killian tried to hide the way the princess broke him, his chest aching from the thought of Milah. Gods what he would not give to simply speak with her, his beloved. To apologize for everything he could not do and should have done would be the greatest solace in the world. 

Emma squeezed with her palm gently, and he looked up at her, her face luminous, eyes silvered jade and so clear of malice. “I know they forgive you. I know they love you. I'm half surprised that as tenacious as everyone claims they were, they have not appeared to you in a vision or haunted you.” Killian let out a bark of laughter despite himself, warmed by something other than the rum they had shared. Emma stood, her fingers trailing his as they let go of each other. “You cannot hold on to this pain. It isn't what they would have wanted. Good night.”

Gliding away from him, Emma disappeared into the bunk below and Killian sighed, looking at the empty mug before him. Pouring the last of it from the pot into his mug, he took several large swigs until he felt the sky spin in peculiar ways. When he heard the telltale start of her nightmares, he was thoroughly as drunk as he had ever been as the Dark One. Standing and making his way down to the bunk, he found himself still nimble but mind fuzzy around the edges. Against his better judgment and ignoring the slam of the waves of magic hitting him, he buried his nose in her hair, curling up beside her warmth to dream of Milah. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The dark clouds seemed to push in from nowhere, the sky dark and heavy with rain. At first, Emma thought it was another autumn rain; they'd become more frequent as the night came quicker and colder. She lit a candle as Killian moved around on deck preparing for bringing the Jolly ashore, continuing her novel. Thunder rolled, and Emma closed her book, peering outside to see the first flash of lightning, rain battering the small windows. Running up the steps, she came about on deck to pelting rain. 

The ship lurched, wind gusting as she let what she had learned take over, meeting Killian half way as the storm's fury pummeled against the wood. His hands caught her own as he tied himself to her with rope, Emma noticing that he was shaking slightly as she helped finish the knot. 

A wave crested, hitting them both with cold water that soaked her, arms wrapping around his body tightly as he complained tersely. 

"I bloody fucking hate thunderstorms," he hissed, and Emma could feel his shaking, could feel the sudden fury and fear that were evident by his tightening jaw and tense muscles. 

"It's just rain, it will pass -" 

"It's not just rain. It's a reminder for me." Pulling them roughly, he took the wheel, avoiding the brunt of a massive wave. "Of how close I come to something before I destroy everything."

"Killian, I don't understand. Please," her voice blending with the wind as he shook his head. 

He choked, and thunder crashed again, the rain making it impossible to see as it fell sideways, lightning illuminating nothing but dark waves. 

Emma helped Killian wrench the wheel to one side, a wave tossing them forward with a crash. The downpour hid both of their faces from each other, but in flashes of lightning his face was shadowy sharp lines of anger and grief. 

"The thunderstorm that the Goblin King created by making that monstrous Dagger and summoning the Darkness. It was there waiting for me."

"What was?" Emma asked, the ship pitching forward, causing her to lose her balance, the rope the only thing keeping her on her feet. "Killian, this storm isn't -" 

He had frozen, eyes far away as the boat tossed her off balance. 

"You need to focus on now, this storm is not because of whatever you're thinking of -" Emma yelled, and he took a step back, causing the ship to roll to its side. Emma's arm muscles screamed as she held onto the wheel. Killian seemed to shake himself free of whatever memory had gripped him, grabbing on to a hook that he embedded in the wood to stay upright, staring at her as the ship tipped back to right itself. 

Panting, Emma pulled herself onto her knees, another wave dousing her as a black shape loomed in the next flash of the storm. The island. A large gap between two jutting coasts appeared that allowed them into a bay, the storm immediately lessening in ferocity. 

"There it is!" Emma yelled, pointing. Killian didn't look, still staring at her as they entered the cove. "Killian, er… should I throw anchor?" 

He shook his head, seemingly collecting himself, then nodded. "Throw anchor, the storm won't be able to knock us around as much in here."

Emma set to work, Killian joining her after a beat, thoughts apparently dismissed. The storm moved over them, light finally peeking through the lightening clouds, Emma flopping down on the deck completely drenched and spent. Her shift was freezing and stuck to her body like a second skin made of ice.

"Get up," Killian said roughly, and she glared up as he toed her with his boot. "No, I didn't mean - " He sighed at her annoyance as she stood. 

"What then?" she hissed, freezing. 

"I have a dry shirt you can wear. It's down in the bunk. I thought -" 

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Emma, I'm sorry for getting lost back there. It's been a long time since it's been quiet in my mind in a thunderstorm so much like that one, no Darkness screaming orders, and I need to tell you - "

"I forgive you. Just -" Emma sighed tiredly, ready to be warm, and pushed her wet hair away from her face. "Wait, is that what you wanted to tell me?" 

He scoffed, and she rolled her eyes in further irritation. 

"I'm going to get changed. We will have to go ashore once it's a bit calmer, right?" she asked, and he nodded while scratching his chin. He opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it when her teeth began to chatter. "Good. We should be able to see who inhabits this place by the time the storm fully clears as well. Could you please wake me around then? I'm exhausted."

"Sure," he answered curtly, and Emma closed the hatch behind her. Shivering in the cold, she finally dressed in one of his shirts, laying out her shift to dry. Killian did not join her after several long minutes, so she wrapped herself in as many blankets as possible and fell deeply asleep. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Its vessel was shaken, feeling a fear that the princess had easily dismissed without knowing what it truly meant, doubt completely delicious as he lay brooding on the other side of his quarters. With the princess being so unpredictable, a light touch had been necessary to prevent her magic from sending the Darkness scuttling, this ember was easy to feed while lurking in almost silence. It fed the vessel’s worries, the desire to tell her and confess his sins, and how they had been born as the Dark One against insecurities. What if she heard his secrets and she left again? What if she saw him as a monster again? What if, what if, what if - The fear of storms returning, his own easy destruction made from reliving that storm, and her dismissive attitude was like a stab of ice in what was once again warming. 

The Darkness had no use for sleep, but with the princess weakening it enough to where its pathetic vessel could rest in solitude once more it had no choice. To its delight, it did find the ability to create nightmarish horrors that slid into the psyche to lurk without creating psychosis. It was much easier and much more efficient to allow the idiot to believe that he had the upper hand until attacking, both tactics easily disturbing any hope of her magic doing long term damage. The nightmares it made were masterpieces, tearing his mind apart as long as she was nowhere near them. 

Milah's room, torn apart, a music box on its side while a trail of red led to her grave. Thunder and lightning all around, the woods at times bright and dark and loud. The slip off the rocky face of the cliff costing him everything, a bolt of lightning then blackness, their meeting in its full glory and the pact signed in the promise of vengeance. The Goblin King grinning as they were bound, as the truth set in and power flooded them, destruction as simple as taking their first breath. Twisting worlds where Liam burned, reaching his arm up as Killian was forced to watch, his brother falling beneath the waves. Men who had been by his side in service screaming, asking why, until it was silent but for the sound of flames on the shipwrecks. Milah screaming from the dark underworld of the Goblin caves, begging for help, while feeble human fingers desperately tried to dig through rock. 

The Darkness flexed in long disuse, feeling its strength returning from the damage that wench had done, sharpening its claws to rip apart any hope that it was gone. There was an idea for a nightmare it had been toying with, a guess that was not a memory but could make its vessel break if used just so, and the Darkness was anxious to try it. When it heard the princess wake, it pushed, and oh how much fear and despair bloomed, the anger and guilt like nothing else. He screamed, begged for the nightmare to end as the Darkness tightened itself around once more, luxuriant self-hatred parching its thirst. 

A new sound broke its revelry. These screams were different from the vessel’s. They echoed through, and the Darkness tried to pull him back toward sleep, fighting its willful, impertinent vessel again - 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma screamed again and this time he was awake, running from the bunk to the deck in a panicked blur and forgetting the awful nightmare he had awakened from, going as fast as his feet could carry him. Emerging to the cool air, his mouth fell open as the princess tried to back away from the creature bearing down on her. 

An ivory colored dragon held the boat firm in its grip as it stared at Emma, its head hovering only a few yards above her. Emma looked petrified and Killian himself froze. A larger dragon in sleek metallic black was flapping its large wings and landed in the water next to the ivory one, both chest deep as their claws and necks stretched towards them. 

Killian inched towards Emma's position, the dragon's eyes huge, pupils narrowing as it focused on its prey. 

"Emma, don't make any sudden moves alright? Stay perfectly still," Killian whispered, closer to her with each careful step. "Dragons can be intelligent, but I don't know if these -" 

"Should you really be insulting the intelligence of something about to eat me?" Emma gritted out, the ivory dragon's nose so close that its puffs of air blew her loose strands of hair aside. 

"You make an excellent point, stranger," a female voice called out, a dark haired woman climbing with ease down one of the ivory dragon’s wings, sliding on to the deck gracefully. "Why have you come? Who are you?" 

Killian realized he was only a few feet from Emma. If he sprinted he could push her out of the way possibly, but it would be a risk - the dragon had moved no farther, simply staring at Emma with its honey colored eyes. Glancing back at the woman, Killian nodded his head in her direction, pointing slowly at the two dragons. 

"Call them off and we'll acquiesce."

The woman laughed. "No, I don't think I will. Tell me who you are, and your business here on Selune Island."

"We were advised we'd find safety here by the Princess of Atlantica and Ursula -"

"Names that we hold no fealty to. Who are you?" The woman laughed again darkly, and Killian exchanged a look with Emma. To his surprise, she seemed no longer scared. She was moving slowly, as if to - 

"Emma wait -" He reached towards her, but she was already standing, the dragon backing away from her slowly, its eyes mere pin pricks as if it made to strike her. "Emma, don't do anything brash, just -" 

"I am the Crown Princess of the United Realms, daughter of Snow Margueryte and David N'lan, christened Emma Swan, seeking allies to help retake my lands from a failed coup. We have been sent by Ursula, now freed from her cursed banishment, and King Triton's daughter, the Princess Ariel, who we helped in freeing the Selkies and King who had been taken as prisoners." Emma recounted. The ivory dragon seemed to blink in surprise, its head turning slightly, cocking it to look at the princess. The black dragon drew closer, and Killian saw it swallow bright blue flame back down its gullet. 

"We mean no harm, and come straight from a battle against the Goblin menace threatening my people, as well as every realm. We ask of you to at least give us a chance to convince you of an alliance." Emma continued, bowing slightly. 

The dark haired woman took a step back, her mouth twisting into a grimace. 

"Ah. Well." She said, her clasping her hands behind her back and squaring her shoulders. The Ivory dragon turned its head, looking down at her. Tension grew in the air, tightening Killian’s chest. "Do you bring a following of warriors to attack our shores then?"

"No." Killian interjected. "They were destroyed by Ursula and -" 

The woman waved the question away, a sigh of relief going through her and the two dragons seemed to relax as well. "I don't care, I don't care about that if they do not pursue, I want to know something else instead. Who are you?" 

The Ivory dragon seemed to melt into golden dust, swirling particles combining into the form of a woman with long blonde hair, wearing fine, gauzy, silks the color of what had been her scales. 

"Lilly, don't you recognize him from the murals? This is the Dark One." The blonde's eyes twinkled, but there was a hard glint buried that made it clear the creature remained. "Welcome to Selune Island, Dark One and…" She wrinkled her nose in distaste, "Princess Emma. I am Maleficent, Queen of the Isle. I introduce to you my Daughter Lilly, Princessa of the Isle, and my husband, Zorro, King of the Dragons."

Killian took the chance to grab on to Emma, who immediately gripped his jacket, stabilizing herself as she leaned, more shaken than he thought.

Silver sparks came together on the deck beside the queen and her daughter, forming into an olive skinned man, his black hair flecked with silver. The King grinned with a wide and wild smirk, his eyes flashing. 

"Welcome to our cozy little isle," he said, voice accented and dangerous. Emma tensed, immediately seeking Killian’s hand with her own, which was hidden between them. "We haven't had a royal visit in ages. When was the last time, Bonita?" Zorro stroked his wife's neck idly, and she returned his smile, both looking feral as their daughter looked out at the sea between them. 

"The last time," Maleficent purred, "was when Regina cast us out, banishing us in exile to this miniscule rock, pledging her loyalty to your mother." 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma's breath caught, her grip tight on Killian’s hand, as a deep silence suffocated them. 

Maleficent turned her gaze to Killian, the icy stare reserved for Emma fading. "If you had not brought such an esteemed guest with you, who could have imagined what parlay we might have had. Where are our manners, and our courtesy? Forgive us for being so… rusty." 

Zorro let out a chuckle, stepping forward in long strides, Emma immediately springing away from him as the King grasped Killian’s hand in his own and shook as if they were mortals. 

"Welcome. We are honored to have you, and your…?" 

"I am her ally, and -" 

"No need to explain more than that, if in regards to companionship." Maleficent purred, her eyes flicking over Emma’s body in her dirty gown with clear disgust, approaching Killian as well. Emma took another few steps back, watching them treat Killian with a warm welcome. 

The Princess of the Dragons approached her, almost cautiously, her bravado now gone and dark eyes uncertain. Standing next to Emma, they watched Killian struggling with the two rulers overzealously speaking without stopping, Emma unsure what to do in the bizarre situation unfolding. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Princess Lilly, examining her posture. She seemed nervous but less so away from her parents, and possibly younger or less mature than Emma initially thought. Emma felt older in her presence but only slightly, and she was not educated on Dragon aging to say anything for sure. 

"Implying that you're having sex." Princess Lilly whispered. 

Emma coughed, blinking at Lilly with heated cheeks. "Beg pardon?" 

"My mother is implying that your, er… ally there," Lilly pointed to where Killian stood, a bit of desperation creeping onto his features as his eyes caught theirs pleading for escape, "is keeping you around to," Lilly made a popping noise with her mouth, and made a lewd gesture with her fingers. 

"I - what on - NO." Emma half laughed, and wheezed, looking at Lilly as if the woman had gone mad. All of them here on the island of Dragon people were insane, and ill-mannered as well.

"You are going to have a rough time here with that tree firmly lodged where it is, Princess Emma." Lilly smiled, laughing lightly. "You better figure out how to get some thick skin and pick splinters out of your -" 

"Emma," Killian gripped her arm, pulling her over to the grinning Dragon King and Queen hurriedly. Emma caught Lilly looking at her with amusement that she likened to a cat playing with its food. "We've been invited to go ashore, and have been granted rooms at the Dragon's keep. I'm rusty on formalities myself so why don't you  _ help me _ ." 

He hissed out the last words, and Emma felt his grip on her arm tighten. 

"That sounds lovely, thank you for -" Emma began, but was interrupted by Maleficent. 

"Not only lodging, but our library of treasured rare books will be open for you, and you'll be able to join us in our Harvest Festival. It's to be a grand celebration this year." Zorro nodded along with her, and she gestured at Emma. "I suppose also we can find you something befitting being in our presence to wear, so no one questions how a beggar washed ashore."

Killian let out a laugh as Emma's cheeks flamed, his attempt to choke it down met with laughter from the King and Queen as they turned to face the side of the ship. 

"I doubt I will ever be considered a beggar, but I suppose someone of such poor manners would try to make their own stature less diminutive. Maybe you'll have some scraps of fabric fit for me, but if how you're dressed is any indication, your finery hasn't been fit for hounds in several hundred years." Emma bit out, the words escaping her lips before she could stop herself. 

The Queen and King's heads whipped around to stare at her, Lilly moving to stand impassive by Emma's other side. After a moment, the King's lip twitched upward and he let out a chuckle while Maleficent smirked with a cocked eyebrow. 

"There is hope for you yet, Princess Emma." Maleficent said lowly. Turning again, the two dove off the side of the ship with twin splashes. In a few moments, two dragons emerged from the depths and elegantly carved their way through the air toward the island. 

Lilly let out a loud laugh, startling Emma and Killian both as they stared at her. 

"I guess neither of you know anything about Dragons, let alone the last left in the world. Geesh, you idiots came here completely unprepared." She shook her head, and Emma couldn't hide her irritation any longer. 

"So all of you are just asshats to everyone all the time? That's the gist?" She spat. 

Lilly roared with laughter, and Emma for the second time wondered if they were insane. 

"Dragons don't generally lie," Lilly giggled, "so we're blunt to a fault. We are also incredibly rare, hoard precious things that are highly coveted, and my parents, Isaac and Cruella are going to be mad forever about what your mother and my Aunt Regina did. Mom's mostly over it, or was until you showed up, but wait until Cruella finds out you're here." Lilly erupted into laughter again, almost doubling over. 

"I don't know an Isaac and Cruella, and I definitely don't know what it is that happened between your family, my mother, and Regina!" Emma threw up her hands in frustration, and Lilly stopped laughing to look at her. 

"You don't know what happened to put us here?" Lilly asked, out of breath. 

"No, and I had no idea there  _ were _ dragons still. We thought -" 

Peals of laughter erupted from Lilly as she wiped tears from her eyes. "Oh this is just - this is just too good. Oh, and on the week of the Harvest Festival too, wow. You're going to be walking barefoot on a swords edge over a viper pit with this." Lilly turned to look at the island, laughter subsiding. Turning with a feral grin that matched her parent's own, her voice was almost soothing if not for the mockery. "I cannot wait to watch."

She took a running start, body morphing in mid-air into a bright silver body that blended into the sky.


	12. X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay.  
Updates will be coming as fast as I can, but I'll try to get them up at least monthly.  
Art coming as well.

Killian rowed them ashore, where they were greeted by Lilly and a small group of curious onlookers. A tall man with a shock of dark red hair and dark skin watched them with an expression of amusement on his face that made Emma bristle at first, but as he watched them, she sensed a great sense of actual levity in the man's genuine smile. Another stood stoic, having the same facial features as the first man, though they were not softened by laugh lines or any sort of emotion. He had a lighter skin tone, and his olive green colored hair cut in a blunted angular style complete with thick fringe blowing in the sandy breeze. 

"Welcome, finally. I forget how slow it is when you are unable to fly," Lilly greeted. The Dragon princess approached, hooking her elbow with Emma's which made her flinch, as she tried to swallow the look of surprise. "While I'm not sorry for earlier, I do believe that you will be my friend and forget our meeting’s misunderstandings."

"I - Yes, that could be a possibility," Emma said, her smile unconvincing. 

"To be clear, you were the one with all of the misunderstandings, and your culture’s proclivity of lying for comfort is the problem I speak of. Even now you are tense, and your annoyance with me smells like…" Lilly sniffed, grinning at Emma's face pinching into frustration. "Apple blossoms."

"Well I never -" Emma tried to pull away, but Lilly held fast, giggling. The red haired dragon laughed as well, and Killian smirked as Emma looked at him with clear disdain.

"Lilly, who are your compatriots? Will the king and queen be receiving us?" Killian asked, and the woman blinked, smacking a hand to her forehead with a groan. 

"Fiore above, I am an idiot." Gesturing with her thumb she pointed at the red headed dragon. "This is my parents’ advisor, and my potential betrothed, Mushu."

"Hello, and welcome to our personal piece of nothingness." His voice was a deep bellow, but full of humor. He put a hand on the olive haired man's shoulder, who did not break the icy stare he had focused on Emma. "My clutch mate, Haku. Our Harvest Festival begins, you must come." Waving his hand in a come hither motion, Lilly followed, practically dragging Emma into the courtyard where decorations were being placed on tall poles, and harvest vegetables littered available space. Cut branches and twine were tied to make a canopy that dripped fire colored leaves onto them as they walked. 

"My parents will receive you tonight at the Harvest Festival. They are currently making the Kitsune leaders aware of your arrival."

Haku did not take his steely eyes off of Emma, and she noted it with unease. 

The other inhabitants of the island seemed sparse, and almost serf like, bowing and averting their eyes when Lilly passed as the Dragon princess showed Emma around. There seemed to be very few dragons actually on the island; the few Lilly pointed out either in their dragon form or ordering about the other Fae that lived there. Emma could not sense what type of Fae the others were, but their magic was different than any she had encountered in the United Realms or as she had made her way here in the Old World. It seemed to pull from the very air itself as opposed to the Dragon's quite literally 'rooted' earth mastery. 

Lilly pointed out a cave that belonged to her brother, Elliot, who loved gems and was an expert on stones of all kinds, and introduced them to Tzalu and Tiamat, both gorgeous and raven haired dragons. They were aloof, but disdainfully polite, as they talked briefly about their skills in cooking for the village. They tended to a blacksmith and the kitchen with ease, fire breathing and ease of handle scorching earth, pleating and folding newly made metals in shapes like that of the paper animals they favored. Tiamat demonstrated with a small silver crane, folding a thick sheet of silver heated to the color of the golden leaves gracing their trees. While Emma was still tense and prickly by the end of the introductions, Lilly and she were openly bickering now, with Mushu adding flame to the fire. Emma seemed to be warming up to the other princess after all. 

"So," Emma said, apple in her hand as they sat in the island's orchard. "I'm done with your cryptic nonsense. What the hell happened to make the Dragons end up here, and what does it have to do with my Mom and Regina of all people?" 

Lilly groaned, flopping back, but the other two dragons tensed. For the first time in their meeting, Haku looked away from Emma to Lilly, a glint of something in his eyes. 

"Alright, alright," Lilly grunted, stretching her arms and sitting back up. "Fine. You win. I'll tell you."

Emma breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

"Yeah well, don't thank me yet," Lilly grumbled. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, then began to speak. 

"In the old days, we Dragons still weren't exactly plentiful, and we were especially not as plentiful as Fae. We take centuries to lay one egg, usually all at one time as a group thing like flocks of birds, and that's pretty much it for us offspring wise, mostly because gestation for the damn egg - which is giant by the way - has to be as a dragon past a certain point. Then, you have to nest around the egg, also as a dragon, and keep it at the proper temperature and make sure the angle it is laying is correct - "

"I don't think they need a lesson on how we breed and raise our young," Mushu interrupted, shaking his head.

"Alright well, anyway. It's an annoying process for everyone involved. We're rare, okay? So a war breaks out between all of you, and we decline to fight along with another rarity - the Kitsune. I'm sure you saw them around. We share this place with them."

Killian looked up in surprise. 

"Kitsune?" Emma asked, and looked at Killian for answers. He nodded, clearing his throat. Even with her knowledge of the many types of Fae and magical creatures, she had not been aware of the Kitsune surviving, or if they had been more than myth.

"Fox spirits. Cousins of the Anisapi, but far more elemental and Fae than animal. Powerful, dangerous, and wily creatures. I don't even know what their gifts are magic wise, I've only heard rumors," Killian answered quietly. 

"Yeah, well, they're not all that special," Lilly grumbled, rolling her eyes. "They're more Fae then elemental, mostly using spells of fog, mist, and smoke. Parlor tricks, sleight of hand, and making their illusions are all they're good for, besides their fancy talking like you and your people." Lilly directed a pointed look at Emma, who was scraping off dirt from her shift. Emma blushed, but said nothing. 

"The war was looming, but when you live as long as we do, or as long as my parents and their parents, and my aunts and uncles have, taking sides in fleeting disputes isn't important. So we didn't, at least at first. Then the Goblins poisoned us with nightshade. Only a clutch of eggs and my parents survived, and only because of three things: Regina Mills, me, and the Dark One.

"The Dark One was told to poison the Dragons and he did, but he poisoned the water supply with just enough to kill slowly, which gave the adults time. The Fae say it was due to him craving suffering, we believe it was a small mercy."

Killian said nothing, his face impassive. 

"My parents were trying to have me, and were otherwise occupied. It was painful, but the Mills' clan and the Equi clan who were sworn to us came at our call, easing the burden with their potions and magic. They were both renowned healing families who we traded our scales and whatever ingredients they needed to; sort of a symbiotic relationship, like those birds who clean the teeth of predators. That's where Regina comes in to the picture, she's of the Mills' clan. 

"The Elder Dragon called a meeting, and while the Goblin menace was a terror, the Fae that had allowed us to die for their war and their consequences were named foe too. We would fight for ourselves, and my parents swore themselves to battle until they were bones bleaching in the sun. 

"Except they lied. My mother's closest confidante and handmaid from the Mills clan happened to be the aforementioned Regina, who discovering that my mother was pregnant with me. Regina begged in secret for another way, and she hated your mother more than anything for stripping her family of titles and lands when she gained her house, but no one would listen. They were too sick and angry, too hungry for revenge. The Elder Dragon called on the Kitsune, our family intertwined by similarities and our indigenous lands, and their leaders Cruella and Isaac, came here happily to join us. Cruella hated your mother too, and believed she deserved more than her station. She had tried to climb in social standing, but could never reach far enough for her standards. 

"Regina tried to convince my mother, the Kitsune, and the clans not to fight but they put on their armor despite her pleas. There was a battle at the cliffs near the Baelfire Barony, after the naval massacre by the hand of the Dark One. Daniel, Regina's betrothed, was killed in the battle by a Goblin horde. Many others died too, my father narrowly escaping death. After that, Regina begged for those left to disappear from a world where no one wanted them. My Mom refused, as did Cruella."

"Regina went to Queen Snow, and swore herself to her in exchange for giving up this island's location, our nesting grounds. Together, Snow and Regina created a barrier that keeps us exiled here against our wishes."

Emma laid her head in her hands, and Killian watched as her fingers massaged her temples. "I had no idea. No idea about so much of this, so much of what happened. I feel like I am running blind - do I apologize to your mother? I didn't do this, and it's been so long, maybe I can help break through -" she gritted out. 

"Why would you possibly do that?" Haku hissed at her, his voice cold and clipped. "There is no gain for you. You all left us here as a warning. It was successful, the world has moved on. Releasing us to a world of mortals when we are so few is simply a slower slaughter."

Emma looked at Killian, the anger in her eyes burning behind threatening tears. To her surprise, he licked his lips and began to speak. 

"Things are changing again. The world is never going to return to where it was, but the Fae still left are wanting change," Killian said evenly, and her lips curved up into a small smile. "Princess Emma wants change, which is why she freed Ursula, brought Pann to justice, and it's why she refuses the Goblin Prince in his proposal -" 

Haku snorted, rising to his feet. "Things haven't changed at all then. You Fae still cry that the world is changing while you ignore your own history, choosing what is recorded and what will be remembered by those alive to tell. You deserve your fall from the sun, the wax on your wings scalding. Some Dark One you are. I did not expect a doting sycophant who would recite sonnets for his royal tart." In a blur of white and green, the Dragon ripped through the canopy, apples falling and bouncing off of them as he rose. 

"Ah. The oldest of the clutch speaks," Lilly sighed. "That was harsh even by our standards, but that's Haku for you."

"So, uh, how about we show you that library?" Mushu said with a clap, the tension thick as another apple rolled off of Emma's head. She looked directly at Killian who wore a look of grim resolve, the thought of creating any sort of alliance dimming by the moment. 

As they started walking out of the orchard, Killian intertwined his fingers with her own, giving them a squeeze. Emma looked up at him surprised, and he bent to whisper. 

"We'll win them over yet, Swan. It will be alright." 

He squeezed again, then moved to talk to Mushu who was leading them and talking about the library’s many treasures. Lilly fell back, taking his place. 

"You guys are cute," Lilly whispered with a laugh. "And he's much better looking than our legends describe. I expected the maw of a crocodile and for him to trail blood from his wet clothes, his eyes as dark as charcoal."

Emma blanched, looking at Lilly with confusion. "No, he's not - I mean the Darkness doesn't have control, or full control really, of him without the Vorpal Dagger. He doesn't - he didn't enjoy doing those things, Lilly. He's not a monster, he doesn't relish in blood." She paused, casting a sideways glance towards Killian. "And, we are barely allies. Our friendship, if you can call it that, is very new."

"Wow," Lilly giggled, hand covering her mouth. "You are so stupid."

"Excuse me?" Emma rounded on Lilly, her eyebrows both raised while she smiled with all her teeth, angry while full of disbelief at her bluntness. "I am not -" 

"No, that's not what I mean. You are intelligent with books and whatever else, but you are so dense. I can literally smell the pining on you. It's gross, frankly." Lilly made a gagging motion. 

"If you are always glib and blunt, you don't have to use 'frankly' before you speak." Emma sniffed, sending Lilly further into giggles. 

"I'm desperate for courtly intrigue, Princess. Tell me, have you wrote him love letters you instead burned? Have you pressed a piece of clothing of his to your face, just to feel closer? Have you kissed him and then both pretended it didn't happen?" 

Emma's cheeks went blindingly hot, and she began to walk quicker, looking down at her dirty slippers. Lilly grabbed her elbow, holding her back, grinning like a she demon. 

"You did, you sly fox! I can smell it, you kissed him! Tell me everything -"

"There is nothing to tell. I was drunk. We had just cheated death, and I had a potion in my system that made me silly and drunk. An accident," Emma hissed lowly. A large ornate building was quickly coming into view. 

"But you both sleep together, and you cling to him like a little duckling, right in his shadow. Or cygnet in your case."

"How did you know tha -" Emma snapped. There was no way anyone could have spied on them, or have seen without them knowing how they rested together. Even Killian wasn't aware of how she laid awake in between fits of restlessness and nightmares, watching his peaceful sleep or listening to him remembering his lost love. The Darkness occasionally pushed through, and Emma had found gently tracing his tensed muscles would soothe it away. He had never woken up to see her, but if he did, she planned to play it off as a strange dream. 

"I can smell you both all over each other, and I know that the two of you have never actually done anything serious. You both are too clumsy around each other, and the idea of a kiss between you two sent you into a nosedive." Lilly shrugged. 

"Please, stop smelling me," Emma managed to grit out as she massaged her temples, unable to form any other reply. Lilly let out a laugh, arm linked in her own again as the library loomed before them. 

"You know, I don't think you're going to believe me, at least for now," Lilly whispered into her ear as Mushu and Killian stepped inside the large doors. "But now I _ definitely _ know that you and I are going to be great friends."

Lilly laughed at Emma's grimace all the way through the doors. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The library was like nothing he had ever seen. The college at the Naval Academy for the Fae had an expansive collection of books, and from Emma's descriptions of the palace library, it seemed that the several floors of books in front of them may even rival that. Killian glanced at Emma, her face was still slightly pink - no doubt from Lilly teasing her - but her verdant green eyes were wide as her lips parted in awe. 

"This is our library, and collection of rare books. Or, as you Fae so kindly called it in the past, our 'hoard'," Mushu said with a flourished hand. "You are free to read at your leisure, Dark One."

With a slight bow, Mushu excused himself. Lilly smiled impishly and whispered something into Emma's ear before bounding off herself, Emma sighing with deep relief when the Dragons were both gone. 

"Well," Killian stated, and Emma groaned as she laid her body over a desk with a thunk. 

"This, this is a lot," Emma replied, muffled by the table. After a moment, she gathered herself and stood, truly taking in the splendor of the place. "This place is stunning, wow. There are so many books. Are those inlaid with jewels or -" 

Killian looked up, from running his fingers down the spine of a book. "I know, it's wonderful. I could live here, just reading everything." He shot a glance down the stairs to the atrium where she stood. 

"I thought you always had to keep moving on, unable to sit still?" Emma teased, but he could not help but answer seriously, the ornate details on every binding, the amount of unknown informatiom lost to time and war, and the full amount of the potential knowledge the books contained too much to dismiss with anything but awe. 

"This is perfection." Running a finger along another binding, he practically purred in satisfaction. "This place or somewhere similar, the ocean, and air. This sort of library, a fireplace, a good reading chair, and every night spent sipping a buttered rum while watching the stars, seeking new truths from the pages. That is all I need, for eternity." Emma hummed, turning the page of a huge tome laid out on another table. After a moment she chuckled lightly. 

"So, a boat full of books, but on land." Emma stated bluntly. 

"When you put it like that, sure love," he answered, with her same sarcasm. 

She stepped closer, looking up to where he stood. "I might visit someplace like that. I like rustic."

"Rustic eh? Not up to snuff for the magnanimous and beauteous princess?" 

Emma shrugged. "It depends on how good the rum is." She replied sarcastically. "Read your books, I am getting fitted for some sort of Dragon style outfit because I'm currently 'unacceptable' per Lilly and her mother. I'll see you at dinner?" 

"Aye." He nodded, pulling a book from the shelf. 

"Don't forget, Elliot is some rock expert, or stones, gems - go see him with the locket. He's in that cave a bit back on the path," she called as she left, turning to give him a wave and a genuine smile. After watching her steeling herself all day, it was surprising that she would waste it on him, but familiarity seemed to win out more often than not as time went on. It was the only thing that the princess had left to hang on to, and that was important in the chaos that threatened her. If he was going to play protector and avoid Nil and Gold's clutches, keeping her in the best state of mind was a preventative measure in his view. 

Piling more books onto a desk, he opened to read anything he could about the history of the Darkness. He found bits about disasters or tragedies that sounded like the Darkness or a Dark One's doing: castles falling in the dead of night as a sorceress laid siege, a curse whisking away an entire treasury and depositing it in a thieves den, a plague that ate away at cattle and crops unless the farmers surrendered to a new lord cloaked in shadow, all ending in the same way - a weapon controlling them was found, and either destroyed by a great amount of light magic, was used to mollify the creature, or was used to kill them. The weapon was specific in its making. 

_ The Fiendish Darkness can be bound to an object, usually a hammer, sword, or dagger for ceremony. Regardless of the form, it must be smelted silver stolen from the ferryman for the dead, steel bent by liquid flame that ripples the very metal, diamonds cursed by avarice, and children's teeth, lost by plucking. _

In an ancient grimoire of a Warlock, Killian found reference to summoning the Darkness into the world, chills racing up his spine as he remembered that night, the storm beating down on him. 

_ When summoning, the loudest call for vengeance will be acknowledged and served a deal to ask for entry. These deals vary, and will be unique to the darkest desires of revenge that attracted the Darkness initially. Once a vessel is chosen, the Dagger will bind the Darkness and its host together until they are killed by the binding weapon. _

He had been full of rage that night, vengeance and trying to kill the Goblin King the only thing on his mind as he raced upwards and cut down any foe in his path. His own anger must have been more enticing than the King's, and his malleability or naivety had an allure that it couldn't pass up. There were times, long periods of sitting in that cell in the dark as it crawled through his mind that he wondered what it would be like if he hadn't slipped, hadn't lost precious time getting to his intended victim, if he would have died instead of living out the life of a slave to the book's described evil. 

By the time he had found the small journal inlaid with onyx and silver, it was well into late afternoon. At first Killian thought the handwritten book was a waste of time, the scribbled words barely decipherable and the drawn charts or graphs not anything he could understand. He flipped through the pages, exasperated, until a drawing caught his eye: a rudimentary form of the Dagger next to various other examples of what must have been binding objects, and a passage on the page next to it. 

_ There may be ways to force the Darkness into another host, but the attempts I have tried ended in failure. The Darkness seems to be affected most by light magic, and love, specifically True Love. In the case of the first queen of the Fae, Titania, her True Love for her cursed child, Puck, drove the Darkness away for some time. In retaliation, Puck killed Titania to prevent her from stunting the Darkness again, claiming the throne for himself until he was killed with the cursed object by the unnamed vessel who succeeded him. Centuries later, Eisolfe the Wise broke said object and light magic built the grand forests for years. _

_ I have tried True Love’s Kiss on my darling Nimue, but she not only resisted, but made clear of her underlying intentions regarding our romance. This True Love was one sided, to my deepest regret. I have used a great amount of magic to seal her into the blade that controlled her, and broken it to assure that the Darkness in it has gone back to where it belongs. Nimue will rest, my love for her freeing her from the tethering - so, it was not all a waste. My heart breaks, and I cannot stand to stay in the shelter of Camelot any longer. I have accepted a request from the sisters of King Triton: henceforth I, Merlin, will be teaching the sisters of the sea esoteric magics. _

_ I regret only that I could not study the Darkness further, at King Arthur and the King of the Goblin's bidding, but we part as amicably as one can in these times. No one currently knows if another Dark One exists, or remains. _

Killian felt like he had been crushed, his lungs unable to take in air. Merlin. The pages after the passage were mostly spells and potions involving sea creatures and earth elemental magic, Merlin learning about his new world and teaching it to his students. When Killian turned the page to see a drawing of a nude mermaid, he shut the journal with force, not wanting to see anymore of what appeared to be a rendering of Ursula. Closing his eyes and trying to erase the image, he stood and stretched. Maybe that was enough reading for the day. 

Walking down the path, he missed the cave initially, the barely trodden path to it overgrown. The cave's mouth was large and wide, the slope down steep as he slid and pebbles tumbled by his feet. 

There seemed to be nothing, a great mossy wall and not much more. He wondered if he had missed the dragon. 

"Hello?" 

It echoed around the cave, until silence fell again. Killian went to turn back to the mouth of the cave, when a gust of air hit his back. He whipped around and watched the mossy wall shift, a pair of bright yellow eyes regarded him with curiosity. 

"Lilly said you might come," the Dragon, Elliot, said. The mossy fur that covered him completely fell in front of his face, and he shook his head slightly. "I'm Elliot. Don't like to look like you Fae or Humans or Kitsune. I don't like being small. I don’t like not being able to hide."

"No judgement here, mate." Killian shrugged, the Dragon's voice sounding much younger than Lilly's, as if he was a scribe or squire of a boy. "I, er, I came to ask you about this stone in the back of this locket."

He held the locket in his outstretched palm, and Elliot approached with trepidation. He was huge, far bigger than Killian had initially thought. What he had initially perceived as wall was Elliot's body; it spread further into the cave as the Dragon moved. Killian focused on the locket instead, the Dragon's claws clicking on the stone floor. The Iron of Nil's attack had bent the silver, indented it slightly, the metal bending to release a small feather, and locks of hair inside along with the dull, perfectly smooth, milky colored oval of amber that had first caught his attention. The Dragon eyed it with a sudden hunger. 

"You have an Emberamber? Those are incredibly rare, if their clarity is -" With his face inches away from Killian’s palm, Elliot squinted. He made an indignant noise, frustrated. "That one's clarity is shot. Someone's used it almost completely up. Oh well, I hope they used it for something worthwhile."

"What are you talking about?" Killian questioned, confused. The Dragon rolled his eyes. 

"So that is an Emberamber. They're used as, like, gem containers for magic or elements and what not. The Remel kind are really rare. They can hold memories and emotions, so that you can see them. You just need a fire and it'll make smoke; it's neat if you want to remember something, unload memories, or record history in real time. Since we're probably the last Dragons, it'd be nice to have one, but yours is all full. See?" Elliot extended a talon, pointing to the milky white swirls in the caramel colored stone. "An unused one looks like topaz or regular amber that you find bugs and things stuck in; you can see almost all the way through it." 

"So this, this is full of memories?" 

"I dunno," Elliot shrugged his massive shoulders. "You gotta throw it in a fire. This one's teeny, old, and really used up though, so it'll probably break after a few uses." 

"How do I use it? Can I use it now?" Killian asked, pulling the stone carefully from the back of the locket. When it came free, he was surprised to see the etching on the back, a scratched etching of his name. 

_ 'For Killian' _

"No. Use it out there. There’s a fire pit near where the pine trees start down the hill. I don't want to smell your smoke." Elliot sniffed, the air sending Killian’s hair askew. "I have sensitive nostrils."

"Right. Well, I'll be off then. Thank you for your time." Killian gave a small bow, and Elliot grunted. 

"Come back if you find something worth my attention," the Dragon grumbled, slumping down and shaking the entire cave as he blended back into the darkness. 

Killian rushed down the path, finding the fire pit easily in a small grove of pine trees. It was easy enough to conjure flame, and a pile of logs lay nearby for use. Throwing them in the pit, he stoked a steady blaze, and threw in the emberamber. 

At first, nothing happened and Killian felt his rage at being tricked start to heat like the fire before him, until in the shimmering smoke of the fire, Milah appeared as if he was watching her through a looking glass. She was faded slightly, as if the color had been pulled from the image and replaced with shades of gray, but her eyes were the same brown, and she looked at him as if she was seeing him - 

"Killian," Milah began, seated gently before him with her hands folded on her satin gown, and he choked out a noise. "I don't know if you will ever see this, or if we will ever meet again. I was given this stone today by a gentle medicine woman. She helped me… She makes me my…" Milah trailed off, swallowing hard. "That's not important right now, actually. I'll - I'll come back to Agakktha later. It's been six months, and so much has changed. I heard what you've done, what you did to the fleet, and Rumple is livid about your capture. I guess a new king and queen have been crowned, and that you are… You are gone. No one knows where you are, and although I prayed for you to one day find me, well my heart? I don't any longer."

"I know that isn't what you want me to say, or what you want to hear, but darling I - I know you wouldn't even care, but I can't face myself right now, let alone you."

"The Goblin King, he is - Well, he is frankly a coward, and the worst kind of coward at that. He runs from battle, he cowers, he seeks strength without stop, he pushes others to the front to save his hide - And he hates that I will never stop reminding him of that. I am some puzzling prize that he hoards like the Goblin he is, seeking my favor. At first I resisted and fought, but I have had moments of weakness too."

"You would tell me that it is not my fault, you would know what to say because you always do and always have, but nothing can absolve me of my shame when I tell you of my aching need to forget you in any way I could. I fell into spirits, luxe wines made from fruit that only grows in the absence of light. My misery was replaced along with my grief, anger, and common sense."

"I made a terrible mistake, my love. I can say that while I was not forced into this situation on my own, my free will here is most definitely limited. What I wanted was companionship in this darkness, in this loneliness. What I got in its stead was…"

"Agakktha makes me my beauty regimen, and two other traditional draughts the king's wife must drink. One for the beginning of the month, and one for the end. The first helps keep me healthy, and keep my body in good condition." Her face soured, her mouth in a tight line. "The second is a test to see if an heir is to be expected. I… Killian I'm… I'm - I can't do this." 

She disappeared, appearing again in a different dress, her hair braided in a much more complex style. Where she had previously looked gaunt, here she had put on a healthy amount of weight, a glow surrounding her. She looked happier, her hands folded on top of her --- Killian froze, letting the realization wash over him. 

"Rumple thinks my heartache is because the child isn't yours." Milah rubbed her swollen stomach, gently stroking where it moved and shifted shape. "At first, that was true, but time has been a gentle mistress. No, now I don't mourn for our possible children, or mourn this one. My heart aches because with each move, and kick, I love him more. It's a him, Killian. I'm having a son, and I am so happy. I miss you, I miss you so much and I will always love you, but how do I even explain this love? It's all encompassing. I love him with every part of me, and I haven't even seen him." Milah smiled, happiness alight on her features. She looked down for a moment, still tracing patterns on the silk over her belly. Her face fell, and she looked up back into the gem’s view. "The amount of tradition here is ridiculous, and I thought the Fae court was bad. At least while our society is gendered, we raise our children in families. To think I complained on more than one occasion about how strict it was for you and I to be chaperoned. Because of the law, Rumple will name him. That is not only a royal duty, but that of the _ male's _ duty."

Milah gave a disgusted eye roll, continuing. "He's chosen the name Nil, but I will forever call my baby boy Baelfire after my father, and our house. Maybe one day a child of House Baelfire and a Lordling of the Blackwater will play together. The thought brings me peace."

She appeared again, tiredness unable to cover her happiness at the babe wiggling in her arms. Bird feathers covered a good portion of one chubby arm, but his shock of dark brown curls and one brilliant brown iris matched her own exactly. 

"Isn't he perfect? Rumple won't hold him, and the longing for you today has been unbearable after so much time without thinking about us. Is that horrible to say? Probably. I find myself so absorbed in other things that were once used as distraction and exhaustion from Baelfire, that giving thought to you as we were has fallen to the wayside. Time is not the only corrupter as they say. More often I wonder about your descent into madness and the Darkness, if you think about me, or if you will in your stubbornness never take another chance at love. Please, consider it. You would make a spectacular father, and have so much love to give another. I beg you, consider it, for my sake. Be happy. That is what I imagined for us, and what I try to imagine in any way possible now.” 

Her next appearance was with the babe, now a toddler jumping in the background with snorted laughs. Milah caught him, tickling him while they both grinned identical grins, unable to stop their giggles. 

"Baelfire my sweet, say hello."

"Hellwhoa." 

"Good job baby! You're so smart. I love you so much, Baelfire." 

Milah paced in her next appearance, sitting down to face him with a sheen of sweat on her face, hair gone gray and a gray pallor in her skin. She adjusted herself in the seat with a slight wince. 

"Killian, I know you will look for me until the end of time if you still live as my own and not what it is they whisper you've become - but I need you to know that I am happy, that I found peace in knowing that my son can be better… These old laws that only benefit the few, the fervent sycophants that think they might be rewarded if they believe enough in strong blood; this abuse of women of all species but especially Goblin women who are made to be the lowest status as a birth gift - I was terrified of bearing a girl, for no matter how monstrous, how can a mother bear the cruelty of having a child they wanted ripped from them for another to raise, all because of this fanaticism? I have begged for women to keep their children longer before they are taken to their gendered groups - How could I watch my daughter growing up to be taught to be quiet, stay out of the way, follow orders, and that her worth is that of nothing?" Milah coughed, hacking as she reached for a handkerchief. Bringing it to her mouth, she coughed for minutes more. When she was done, her face was clammy, and her breathing was shallow. She pulled herself up, laying a red and bluish-tan stained handkerchief aside. "There is no strong blood, there are only strong beings, strong mothers and fathers, children, and familiar ties that weave us all together. I will not let my Baelfire be afraid in the time I have left." He felt his heart drop, looking at her tired face.

"I have Lichen Lung. Do not blame yourself for this, Killian. I caught this as a child, playing in the bog by the House Baelfire's old estuary. It was always going to claim me, and they've made me very comfortable. I've lived far longer than I would have up there, or if we had... I've lived well here within reason. The fungus loves this damp and dark, and the Healers here specialize in fungal infection. They have the best remedies for this disease, and have eased so much of my pain. I wish I could assure you that as you live on it's alright to be without me." She stroked a finger over the heart tattoo that rested on her shoulder, a clear view of it beating under her pale skin as she turned. 

"I want you to. I want you to be happy, to find joy in sunsets, to swim in the ocean without me, knowing that our life was worth everything. Every second that I was with you makes me more determined to stay alive, to raise Baelfire to be like you. I want you to love, Killian, to consider another person capable of forgiving you, of absolving you of the thoughts you've built up, of guilt and shame. I want you to consider loving them, of being open to the idea that maybe in our lives there is room for more than one love of a lifetime. I want you to have a family again, so you can know just how much that is true. I want you to let me go, but know I'm close, and wishing you a wonderful life."

She appeared again, rail thin and gaunt, propped up in a bed. A teenage Goblin boy, very clearly a young Nil, sat at her side."I don't think I'll last the day, my heart."

"Mother, it's alright." He held her hands, folding them gently on her lap. "Let me read to you, just relax."

"How did I end up with such a wonderful son?" Milah sighed. "You were at the part about the Heart of all the Realms, the stories?" 

"Yes. So, the Doctor and his wife theorized that there were realms they could open with magic, and that there could be infinite numbers of them. They may even be merged or created with powerful enough magicks, and be held in stasis against each other, meaning that they would have their own linear sequence of time. It was all hypothetical until they made one on accident. They experimented more, and found that different planes could be reached via portals or use of magic. These were used to create the first realms, that soon came to be known as the United Realms. They were the largest, most stable, laden with resources, and easiest to create travel through of the realms being found. This discovery gained the Doctor a title and great renown. The Whitehart family still stands to date as the only and last house created before the war. 

The Whitehart family attempted dividing the portals by population, believing that eventually each species could be individually placed in one of the infinite realms. Space no longer became an issue, warring factions eased their battles to journey to a new world made for them. 

It was great news until rumors drifted of realms no longer being reachable. Just like the stars in the sky are always remaking themselves, realms are too; new ones being born and dying in constant motion. Black holes are the eater of stars, and The Devourer is the thing that eats realms. It lives at war with the light in the middle of every realm, all time and space, each trying to keep balance. Knowing this, the Whitehart family stopped their work, leaving only the United Realms in their wake. This was a major catalyst in the war that led to the eventual banishment of the Goblins after the Vorpal Dagger's destruction. The Whitehart family name and their solemn family creed to keep the light alive lives on with the new Queen, even after her parent's murders and the attempt on her life by the Goblin King. From commoner, to being the utmost highest position of the land, the Whitehart family name is not lost under the N'lan banners with Snow Margueryte in the crown."

"I hope that one day you meet her. I know what your father tells you, but life could be different for you. You could live above, you could change things if you just showed her the iniative. Imagine freedom, of choice - That's sounds like a grand adventure, Baelfire." Milah whispered, reaching up to tousle Nil's hair weakly. "You must go on a grand adventure some day, sweet boy of mine."

Nil scoffed, looking at her with a strained smile. "Mother, you know that's impossible. We're trapped down here, for one, but the last time the Fae let us live outside of this accursed realm the result was the utter destruction of everything we created. Secondly, the Queen isn't well known for her forgiveness - and father was steps away from killing the her as she slept under that curse. You know why Father chose you, and why if I'm ever to marry, I owe it to our ancestors to - "

"You don't have to follow the laws writ by vengeance's call. You don't have to follow in your father's footsteps, you can choose a partner that you love -" 

"Mother. After what was done to us, my people demand penance. It's why the Elves, Pixies, and Anisapi still send tithes of women at our behest, defying their own King and Queen. Even they know that what was done to us and what their beloved Monarchy tries to keep hidden will not win them favor when we return." Nil pinched the bridge of his nose, and Milah sniffled quietly. "Don't cry, mother. Please. We've been through this, you said that you understood."

"I understand why you think that you have to, but I promise you that love is worth far more than vengeance ever will be. You will wake up to a crying bride, a cold bed, and children that don't understand why their parents hate each other. I want more for you, Baelfire. I beg you to please - "

"You truly hate father?" Nil asked, quietly. 

"I do not love him, but the hate I had has grown dull over the years. I had love with another, so I know what it is to feel it. What your father has given me, even after your blessed birth, has never been love. I love you. You will know love, and you must never forget it."

"Love isn't worth anything when your people lie dead at your feet." A voice hissed from the darkness beyond the emberamber's view of Milah and Nil. "Come, Nil. You have lessons. Maybe your mother can join you for your history recitation, as she forgets her people's responsibility in the making of our laws."

"Get out of my bed chamber." Milah hissed, closing her eyes. Nil stood, kissing her on the forehead, and left with his father. 

The view changed. Now alone, it was dark in her chamber as she faced him, straining to speak. 

"I must confess to you my greatest secret, and let you know that it is not a regret. I have loved another, my son, and felt something for his Father on rare occasions. This led me to do what I had to do, and you must understand, you must try to understand. You are imprisoned, or were; if you ever do see this or it is transcribed for you: the decision was mine, Rumple's, and King David's. Oh, Killian. Life is a bitter root to chew when there is nothing else. David offered the women here - the women stolen - our freedom in exchange for letting the Goblins free again. 

I was so very pregnant, and the women voted, we voted to stay. There was no longer a life we could live away from our children, our families, or we would simply could not survive put back somewhere. The threat of the Goblin reckoning was also too great; we were nothing but a bargaining chip to create more war - Rumple's face when he heard our no vote was a snarling hateful thing. Seeing that, I know the decision made was the right one. David agreed - they were having a child too - and Queen Snow kissed me on both cheeks, but Rumple would not let me say goodbye to you. I left knowing that you were somewhere below my feet, waiting, and I had burned that bridge for the sake of my child and the realms."

"Please, forgive me. I fear that Rumple's patience has been stretched too thin. I fear that he is the one who made me much more ill, just for spite. I fear that my son who watches me die as this spreads through my heart and lungs will never know freedom or love or light when I am gone."

"Please be an example of what I take from this world with me; please love someone just as much as you loved me. Don't let the Darkness in you win, don't let it eclipse you and everything you are. You are always and forever will be, my Killian Jones. Please don't let that be taken too. I love you, I love you, I will forever love you."

The fire dimmed low, the smoke trickling back into the jewel. There were hot tears on his face, the stone burning his palm with its own intense heat as he pulled it from the fire, squeezing it tightly. Stumbling to get up, he slumped by a pine tree, letting the force of his sadness take him. 

Walking for what felt like hours, he finally arrived back in the village. Emma approached him with two bowls of something that steamed, her face falling to concern when she came closer. She was dressed in a simple blue dress, similar to the fashion the common human folk had worn in their villages when he lived at the Blackwater. He ducked back into the shadows, but she pursued until he realized that it was futile, letting her catch up just outside of the village. Under the falling leaves they sat for a few minutes, before Emma turned to study his profile. After a moment, she asked a question. 

"Are you hurt?" 

Killian swallowed hard. "Not exactly. No."

"Come here," she whispered quietly, and for once he did, falling into her and laying there against her chest as she lowered them to the ground. She soothed gently and slowly, running her hands over his shaking shoulders.

Once he had calmed down, they sat in amicable silence eating their potatoes and meat, Emma giving him a large chunk of bread. She also produced a wine skein and a large chunk of cheese, both eating for what felt like the first time in ages. 

Emma broke the silence, both of them simply basking in the decadence that was hot food after having none for so long. 

"I don't need to know anything about what happened, but whatever it was..." She paused and stroked hair out of his face as he laid his head against her thigh. They had become so much closer since the situation with Ursula, trust in each other hard won, personal space a non-issue when living in close proximity on the ship as it drifted. "I am sorry that it hurt you."

"Broke my heart, actually. What little of it that remains.” 

Emma gave a low hum, sitting in silence as she continued to comb fingers through his hair. The calm the Darkness had fallen into since Emma and his close cohabitation finally broke, woken by his despair at Milah's revelations, the edge of its tumultuous presence creeping back into his world. 

"You know," Emma began slowly, murmuring. "Your heart… If it's broken, it means that it can be fixed. That it still works. That regardless of everything, there's pieces of you that the Darkness cannot corrupt or destroy."

Pulling away from her with a jolt, the Darkness seething under his flesh, his eyes flashed a warning. Emma pulled back slightly, fear in her eyes at his reaction - he'd acted like a skittish creature, an animal prone to bite, not Emma's ally. And they were allies, were they not? Even, possibly - 

_ No, she's not your friend, she's just another in a long line of masters that holds your leash. You are no wild animal, just a pet. You trusting her is pathetic, you disgusting, lowly, cretin. She doesn't see you as more than a tool, and you let her talk to you about your heart as if you still have one. You have a piece of coal; there's nothing left for you to feel with. You have no emotions except hate, fear, melancholy so deep - _

Emma's hand met his cheek, trembling while she looked at him with defiance. 

"Killian. Come back to me?" Carefully, and slowly, she wrapped her arms around him in a gentle embrace. At first every muscle of his tensed, the Darkness letting out yowls and screeching sounds, but they faded as his tension did. His arms wrapped around her delicately and Emma beamed when she pulled away slightly. 

"You shouldn't do that, Swan," Killian whispered.

"Shouldn't do what?" 

Killian cleared his throat, scratching at his ear slightly. "Listen, I don't want to - If I can't control it, or I lose sight and lash out, you could get hurt and I -" 

_ You're pathetic, you absolute worm. Look at you, cowering from the strength of your power like a child. Do you remember how small you are? Your mother died and your father left you. You killed your brother in cold blood, and all those men in ships that you burned and cracked. Don't you want to remember all that blood in the water, and the smell? _

"Killian. You don't have to listen to it. It's wrong. Whatever it's saying, it's wrong -" 

"Shut up, just shut up!"

_ Careful you good for nothing louse, don't want to hurt your pretty princess because you can't handle the truth of what you did, what you are. Remember what happened the last time you chose not to listen? We sunk to the ocean floor with Nil's iron through our chest, and before that, Elsa died because of you, because of this princess, and I warned you, didn't I? _

"Open your eyes and look at me. Please. Please, you have to look at me, Killian don't let it -" 

_ Yes, look at her. Proof of you being weak. You should have given her to Nil, but you tried to be _ ** _noble_ ** _ . You aren't noble, you aren't good; no matter what this wench says, no matter what Milah did. _

"Stop!" Emma's fingers wrapped around his mangled hand, but the noise would not stop, uncontrolled and like a cornered animal. The cackling pressed against the back of his eyes, both temples throbbing. Emma's voice was a low thrum cutting through a shrieking whine. "Please just stop, you're hurting him, stop -" 

_ Oh, listen to her, pitying you for what you are! What you _ ** _chose_ ** _ . Isn't it funny how your revenge has destroyed everything you ever cared about? Surely you aren't stupid enough to care about your worried little Swan? _

The Darkness had laid still, a snare in a bramble, waiting for Killian to relax and to think he had a chance to control it. This was a warning;_ it _ controlled _ him _ and he was its puppet, not the other way around. The sludge-like vines wrapped tighter, roots digging deeper as it cackled without relent. 

There was a flicker, and the tiniest bit of sunshine touched him. Light pushed, separating the gnarled thicket even as it fought back against Emma's concerned plea. 

"Killian, come back to me. Listen to my voice."

_ I WILL NOT LET HIM GO, PRINCESS! WE ARE THE DARK ONE! _

Everything built to a point of no return as Killian’s hand gripped Emma's too tightly. 

_ You're scared you will hurt her, I can feel it. Yes, we will. We will hurt her, especially if she is a threat. Damn the shard and its protections. I'll eat away at them with ease. All barrier spells can be broken or corrupted, and this is just one more. I'll delight in both of your surprise when I can wrap your fingers around her neck, the Darkness knows no bounds but the dagger, I'll make you rip her apart piece by piece. Oh yes, I will weaken that silly protective charm, just you wait Dearie. I'll make you crush her heart as it beats in your hands. I'll show you how good it feels to feel the dust run through your fingertips. _

The cackling stopped abruptly, and Emma's hand was yanked away from his as she sprawled backwards. The Darkness hit her with blunt force, the thud of her body hitting the ground followed by the whoosh of air leaving her in a moan. 

_ I can hurt her easily, even now. You may have kept me at bay on that ship of yours, but now I am stronger than you. Your emotions make you weak. It won't be long until I can wound her, or break her just like I do to you. I can break her fingers one by one while she asks you 'why' - _

"No!" Focusing with every bit of his concentration, Killian pushed the Darkness away, willed himself to hold it back. 

Silence slowly returned to the confines of Killian’s mind, limbs falling out of their forced paralysis. Sliding over beside Emma, he frantically checked her pulse in fear, finding it fast under his fingers. Relief coursed through him. Emma's eyes fluttered open, meeting his as she flinched away from him in fear, staring at him in confusion for a moment before relaxing. 

"I didn't mean to, Emma, I'm so sorry. I couldn't -" 

"It's OK. You hit me good, but I blocked most of it. The tumble was what really knocked the wind out of me. We'll have to practice again in a softer space, I think." 

"Practice again?" Killian scrubbed at his face, scoffing. "Absolutely not. No. It's not okay at all. I hurt you. Bloody hell I -" 

"Is it like that all the time? I think I could almost hear it, that voice… it's so scared of you leaving it. It's like a wild animal. I think you can control it if we practice. It caught me off guard, but a throw isn't going to leave anything but a big bruise."

"No. I can't ask that of you, and it is getting stronger the closer the clock ticks down to Nil…" Trailing off, Emma raised her chin in defiance, standing up with his help. "No, Emma this was too close -" 

Stepping forward, Emma took Killian’s hand in hers, massaging his palm. "You can't kill me and I can't kill you. I promise you that thing is trying to rattle you. I'm fine.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't control it, Emma. I swear I'll try harder -" 

"Don't try. Just…" Emma chewed her lip, and took another tentative step closer. "You are now among the closest friends I've ever had, so I don't ask of you to try. Just don't hurt me. Don't let it be an option anymore. Don’t give in, especially if you believe it's getting stronger. We have to beat this. _ You _ can beat this; I know you can." 

"Close friend? When did you decide that?" Killian smiled slightly, amused by the idea as the chimes rang out. Emma laughed, and rolled her eyes, standing and brushing off her dress. 

"The second to last barrel of rum on the Jolly."

"You must have terrible companions."

"Shut up." Emma blushed. "I just trust you a lot more since you told me you were really going to be my ally, that's all. I can see you changing, trying to be better."

"Then…" He looked for words instead of at her, a hand raking through his hair. "Thank you."

"Whatever, you're welcome. Save me a dance tonight; Lilly says they have a wonderful fiddle player." She clapped a hand to her forehead. "Oh no, I told Lilly I'd change into some outfit - I'll be back, go on without me!" Before he could protest, she had run off towards a cave built into the cliffside that faced the ocean. 

Killian wandered by himself to the square. It seemed that the entire village had gathered and were surrounded by twinkling lights, pumpkins, bushels of apples, barrels of what looked like some type of ale, cauldrons of mulled wine stirring themselves in the darkening sky, and a band setting up on the small stage. 

He saw a short statured man with a receding hairline approach the stage nervously, fiddling with his bow tie, his gaze flicking around until they met Killian’s. He grinned, and Killian felt his neck hair stand, his body alert to a potential threat from some arcane magic. A hand touched his arm and he grabbed the person's arm roughly, realizing it was just Emma a second later. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Ow! Killian!" Emma hissed, rubbing where his fingers had dug in. He seemed distracted, looking over her for something or someone before truly taking her in. When he finally saw her, Emma watched his eyes widen while his hands began to fidget. She did the little spin Lilly had suggested, the flowing garment spinning around her.

"Do you like it? Lilly says it's from last year, but that no one should notice. I've worn dresses with lace before, of course, but never anything this sheer or gauzy. It feels like I'm only wearing the night sky!" 

To her surprise, Killian didn't say anything; he didn't tease, or give her a witty quip. He simply stared at her and the navy fabric that was covered in the lacy sheer stars. The dress was backless and deeply cut, but the silver and dark blue that bordered on black caught the candle light, adding gold and a true navy color into its flowing movement. It was much easier and lighter to move around in than the stiff, heavily layered gowns that her mother favored. 

When Killian was silent for another moment, Emma rolled her eyes. "You're not funny you know. If you're going to act like you -" 

"You look..." He breathed out in interruption, pausing to shake himself free of whatever his mind was doing, much to Emma's annoyance. "You look…" 

"Nice?" Emma finished for him, hopefully. He swallowed, and she watched his neck bob, before he nodded dumbly. 

"Yes, you look… you look good. Better than Pann's club and you… you look nice." He nodded and Emma burst out laughing. 

"You've been drinking without me then, huh? No wonder you were so spacy. Lilly says there's some announcement and they do a ceremony, then the party begins. I'll meet you drink for drink then."

He nodded weakly, and Emma shook her head. 

A man she hadn't seen before took the stage, with Lilly and her parents shuffling behind him. He stepped up on a raised platform to a carved podium. 

"Hello, and welcome to another Harvest," he spoke over the crowd. Everyone clapped politely, or so she initially thought until she saw Haku standing in the shadows glaring at the stage. He looked even more furious if it was possible. "I am Isaac, the Kitsune leader for our new guests, and Isaac the best apple cider maker to the rest of you." 

Whistles and cheers cam from the crowd along with laughter at his titleage, and he held out his hands for quiet. "As always, we will be announcing the Harvest Maiden tonight, letting their will be done and come tomorrow, she will be prepared for her fall slumber. This year, we had a volunteer again, so lots will not be chosen. This year our beautiful Harvest Maiden is…"

Isaac paused for dramatic effect, while a younger, dark haired woman led by a gaunt woman with a shocking black and white hairstyle was leading her onto the stage. 

"Chihiro!" Isaac finished, and Emma watched as Haku swiped at his face, then slunk into the woods without a word. 

The young woman stepped up on the raised platform Isaac stood on, taking a place at his side. She wore a simple white gown, Isaac producing a crown of greenery from the podium. Chihiro bowed again holding the crown on her head with a hand, looking around when she rose back up slowly. Her eyes seemed sad, but when they flickered back to her feet after searching, her face fell completely to a quiet wistfulness. 

"The Harvest Festival Maiden will lead us in our dancing, choose their prince, and their fool, lead us in our feasting, and in the burning of our bad spirits. Tomorrow she will be pampered, spend time with her loved ones, and then be cleansed for her sleep."

The village cheered, and Isaac led Chihiro down from the platform, Lilly and her parents shuffling after them. 

Emma turned to look at Killian, as he watched the village bowing to the girl when she stood in the center of the dance floor. Chihiro looked around again, looking for someone in the throng of the crowd before whispering to Isaac. He chuckled lightly. 

"Our Maiden asks to break tradition, and to wait to announce her prince and her fool until after dancing and after the feast," he said with a grin. The crowd gasped, but he raised his hands to quiet them again. "While traditions are important, this is our Harvest Maiden! Who am I to deny such a request? Let us dance! Let us drink! Let us feast and be merry, the ceremony remains!" Isaac ended with a flourish, clapping his hands. In robes and gloves of black topped with white masks, servants brought out steaming trays of food, tankards and goblets being passed around as they were filled them with drink. Emma hadn't seen the servant class before, their shapeless uniforms and masked faces catching her off guard, but she had barely any time to think about them when the fiddle had begun, Lilly spinning her into a dance. 

Emma had danced many group dances in the palace; the court was fond of them as icebreakers to allow the mingling of houses. This was not such a dance. Emma was spun and twirled rapidly, catching on to the footwork after several missteps. The women were lifted and placed to the side, their feet in a similar movement to the Elven jig, her stops for drink punctuated by Lilly pulling her back in as soon as she had gulped down what she could. Cold ale and honey mead washed away the heat of the apple whiskey and mulled wine, the dance becoming easier as the feast and the loosening of alcohol in her limbs began. She had lost track of Killian in the crowd, but he sat next to her as they broke bread, her body pleasantly humming while Mushu and Lilly told animated stories of growing up together. The stew of potatoes from earlier was plenty filling, leaving Emma picking at her plate as she listened intently. 

Drink however slid easily past her lips as the Kitsune and Dragons taught them their traditions. Several drinking games were led by the Harvest Maiden with her giving a hand signal or yelling a word, everyone drinking quickly to avoid being forced to drink something called 'The Horned Flaming Dervish', a shot served in a thimble that made the King of the Dragons’ face go red when he was caught. The crowd roared with laughter as he had tears slip past his eyes, steam coming from his nostrils. 

"You dare to target your King?" he rasped after, laughing. "I will repay you all by making sure my suffering has much company!" 

Emma found herself unwilling to be among them. Killian seemed to sense this, and they both clued each other in when taking their long sips. 

Dancing began once more, but the dance was different; partners switching less often after eating a full meal and having far too much to drink. The pairings she had were lost in a blur, until a familiar hand held her own, with the other one resting on her hip. 

"You have a bad habit of not pacing yourself, princess," Killian whispered, and she laughed lightly. 

"No," she replied, sighing. "I have a bad habit of not knowing how strong these drinks are. I'm doing much better with pacing, thank you."

"True. You're able to stand, and even dance this time." He spun her gently, and she stumbled, his eyebrow quirking up. "Maybe I spoke too soon -" 

"That was a rock, don't discount me over a rock!" 

Killian smiled and she let him sway her as the next partner approached. To her great surprise, he turned and blocked the Kitsune from taking her elbow, taking the next dance himself, then the next several after. They talked about anything and everything as the music changed, while she let herself come down to the beginning of a drunken buzz. Killian probably felt similarly if her guess was correct, but he didn't betray anything to any of the islanders. Emma would not have known herself if they weren't as comfortable with one another; other then his willingness to be close to her and the way his shoulders lost their tension, he seemed as astute as ever. Emma couldn't find words to describe how much she appreciated that, her mind clearing in its fuzziness as she laid her head against his chest. 

"Thank you," Emma sighed. "I didn't realize just how dizzy I was. How are you holding up? Are you still fighting with -?" 

"No. I'm not. It's been quiet. I owe you a thanks for that, so we can call it even. You were right when you said we make a good team." His voice was low, and she tilted her head up to look at him, the way he looked down at her strange. His fingers traced the star patterns on her hip, as Emma realized she was right in guessing he must be tipsy or close to it after all. She let herself get caught up in how nice it was to be this soft with someone, unguarded, no longer questioning the amount of drink at festivities or his loyalty when it could be like this. 

As if hearing her thoughts, he whispered in her ear, his breath warm as the night air grew chillier. "If you feel alright now, I thought I might go back and get a bit of cider with rum in it. It seems to be the best of all the choices by far." 

A flash of white caught her eye, crossing behind Killian and into the woods. Chihiro was slinking through the shadows, disappearing into the forest with a look of anger that drew curiosity and suspicion from Emma. 

"Not this second. I'm still not quite - Excuse me, I'll be right back." Emma said, pulling away and heading after the Maiden. Killian let her go, his fingers lingering on her wrist slightly, as if he was waking from sleep. 

“Come now Swan. Afraid you’ll find me even more irresistible after a few libations?” he teased. She balked, rolling her eyes. 

"Not on your life, don't kid yourself," Emma laughed while pulling away from his grip entirely. Killian didn't follow, but instead turned the opposite way slowly, like he was debating whether to go with her. Emma rolled her eyes when she saw him return to the line for his drink. Following Chihiro, Emma carefully paced herself and tiptoed through the brush. Was this a secret part of the festival? The Maiden's stealthy rendezvous? 

Coming to a small clearing, Emma hid in a thicket watching in silence, Chihiro pacing a ways in front of her. Haku appeared from the darkness on the other side of the clearing, and Chihiro turned to him with clear upset. 

"I asked you to come," Chihiro said softly. Haku shrugged almost imperceptibly. 

"And I said I would not," he replied coolly. 

A breeze blew, their hair and clothes fluttering. 

"But… I asked you to be there, and you -" Chihiro's face fell, and Emma heard her sniffle. 

Haku exploded, yelling at her in a fit of anger. "I won't watch you celebrate this. I won't dance with you to honor your life, when all of us know - when I know -" 

"This was my choice, I'm stronger than the others. We could leave this place and never look back. We could find where we came from and return there!" Chihiro cried, reaching for him. 

Haku regarded her with more fury. "How am I supposed to do that? I won't. I love you, and I put in our names to be refused so we could have a life. You destroyed our chances for any of that by doing this!"

"I did it for the same reasons! I love you so much, and I know that Cruella is counting on me. She would never let me leave my path to be with you!" Chihiro cried openly, heavy tears hitting the forest floor. "I have to come back to you, don't you think I know that? I will break this stupid prison. I just wanted to dance with you, why couldn't you at least do that for me?" 

Haku rushed towards her, kissing her and holding her tightly for a few moments, before pulling away. 

"I can't dance with you. I - I'm sorry, Chihiro. I can't participate in any of that, any of this stupid festival. I can't." Haku kissed her hand, and through Chihiro's begging and tears, fled into the night. 

She stood, watching where he had pushed into the woods for a long while, until with a snap of her fingers, Chihiro cleaned herself up. A fake, smiling facade went over her crying tears in a glamor, her foot falls quiet in the brush as Emma tried to process what she had seen. 

Pulling her stiff limbs up and walking back, Emma saw Chihiro head to the stage, pointing out two Kitsune to play her prince and her fool. After a dance with the prince that was awkward and stilted, the fool was sat on the stage. Chihiro had chosen a young woman to play the fool, and she painted the fool's face, until she vaguely resembled Haku, before dumping the entirety of three tankards over their head. The crowd cheered, and the fool laughed while sputtering. 

Isaac took to the stage again with Chihiro in tow, well into the night as festivities wound down. Killian and Mushu had stepped away talking about books, while Lilly hung off of Emma shamelessly drunk and grinning. She pointed to the stage while nuzzling into Emma's neck. 

"There's Cruella. I'm surprised she hasn't said anything to you. She's been watching you all night." Lilly pointed to the woman now on Isaac's arm, her hair a mess of black and white and nails painted bright red. A bright red pendant on a red choker circled her thin neck, shining even in the dim light. Emma hadn't noticed the woman at all the entire festival, let alone the woman watching her. 

She was very hard to miss, tall and gaunt to Isaac's short and soft features, his hand on her waist tight as it bunched the slinky black material of her dress. For someone so conspicuous, Emma had barely seen this leader at all. 

"Lilly, I don't think -" Emma started, but Lilly shushed her loudly as Isaac began to speak. 

"We raise our hopes that Chihiro is successful in using her spirit to break the barrier." Lilly whooped and the village cheered. Isaac raised his hands, and the strange group of people she had seen earlied stood, all dressed in a dark black robes. They all bore the same black veil over their hair, similar to pictures she had seen of the mortal clergy, and a long white mask. Emma idly wondered how they dictated a servant class, but dismissed it as cultural or religious. "And as we do every year, we remember our past. We thank the husks for their perpetual servitude and the blessing of those who care for them." 

The husks bowed all at once, taking off their masks as they came up. Emma squinted, taking a few subtle steps forward in the crowd, looking hard at the husks. There was something off about them with their masks off, their glassy and blank stares and inexpressive faces windowed in the black fabric lending to their drab outfits. Their eye color was gray, and Emma realized it covered their entire iris. They had no pupils, only the stone colored dot sitting in the white, unmoving and devoid of any kind of cognizant reactions. 

They shuffled away, a few attendants pushing them when they seemed to lose focus. What were they? Who were they? 

Her mouth suddenly dry, Emma tried to get away from Lilly and find Killian, but Lilly held fast. Cruella now gazed out at the crowd, her long crimson nails digging into Chihiro's shoulder. 

"It is now time for the women and men to separate for spirits and sweets. Fairer sex, follow the Maiden - Men, follow your Prince! We will convene in the morning for the rites, but until then…" Cruella bowed deeply, her voice a wild timbre, "Happy Harvest!" 

Before Emma could protest, Lilly dragged her towards a white tent, the inside full of sweets and cakes, and tea pots on every table. Rolled cigarettes in different colors lay on silver or crystal platters, their fragrances mingling in the breeze. Emma let Lilly pull her to a table, Cruella and Maleficent joining them with Chihiro in their grip. Chihiro smiled politely, but Emma could see the thin barely distinguishable line of a glamor resting over her jawline. It was likely she was still crying, or at the very least, her face was still wet with kohl lines staining her cheeks. 

"Enjoying yourself, Princess Emma?" Maleficent purred, lighting a cigarette daintily. Her expression was light and blasé, but her eyes were steely, Lilly retreating in on herself as she poured tea for the table. 

Emma nodded politely, for the first time seeing Cruella grin at her with a hunter's gaze, her eyebrows arched and teeth sharp. Taking a red rolled cigarette, Cruella placed it in a long filter extension, puffing on it with force. Her exhale was a great green cloud, Emma hiding her coughing under the guise of a slurp of her tea. 

"You know, this could be your next good deed easily, don't you think?" Cruella hissed, another green cloud snaking its way over to Emma. Chihiro made a small noise, admonishing Cruella, but Maleficent nodded gravely. "If your mother and Regina," Cruella spat Regina's name like a curse, "Hadn't marooned us here and forgotten about us, we wouldn't have to do these silly rituals at all. It's truly fortuitous you are here, and you could step in to fix your family's grievous error. But you don't care about that, do you, Princess Emma?" 

"I - I didn't even know until -" Emma stammered. The green smoke swirled around her, framing her in an oval before dissappating. Emma tried not to cough again, the smell of the pine stronger than gin and a heavy handed helping of chili pepper emanated from the fumes. 

"Of course you didn't. You just destroyed Pann, freed Ursula, shagged the Dark One -" Maleficent drawled, stirring her tea idly. Lilly sunk in her seat while Chihiro began adding sugar cube after sugar cube to her cup without stopping. 

"I am not shagging - I have absolutely no relationship with Killian outside of our alliance and I don't know how I could help here. I didn't know about any of this. I didn't know your history with my family at all -" 

Cruella's eyes flashed, and she stood with a jolt. Smoke poured from her dress, as if it was breathing. "You don't know how you can help us? Oh, how rich. Why don't you royals put some of your oh so powerful magic to work where it counts! This should be nothing for you - "

"I will do anything in my power to help if I can, but I don't know the extent of this magic. I barely know the history - "

"So you let another bear its consequences?" Maleficent asked, seemingly bored. "Typical. Haku was right about you."

"No! No, I wouldn't, I want to help -" 

"Good, if you want to help, you can take Chihiro's place," Cruella said, licking her red lips. Smoke twisted around her head, like great reaching hands. "We'll adjust the ritual and you will fill in; everything will be fine. Simple even!" 

"No, I want to see what these rites are, and consult with Killian -" 

"Lilly," Maleficent snapped icily, pointing her tea spoon at her daughter. "Tell your friend how important this is, and how much it would mean to us."

Lilly sputtered, stammering. "Uh, well, Emma it would be - we would - considering, you know, everything, you really should - I mean it's safe, mostly." Maleficent and Cruella's eyes both sharpened, and Lilly laughed nervously. "I mean it is safe, and someone would be there watching you at all hours - watch the rites tomorrow and do it, do it for our friendship and as a sign that you truly want our alliance." Lilly finished, and gave Emma's hand a squeeze. Maleficent smiled, reaching over and petting her daughter's hair. 

"Well said, Lilly. I would be much more inclined to ally with someone who shows the crown has changed its ways, so I believe it's agreed - you will take Chihiro's place tomorrow morning - " 

"Leave her be. I'm fine with my choice," Chihiro said quietly. Her cup was full to the brim of sugar, only the stain of tea in a few places to indicate it had even been there. She smoothed it with her teaspoon into a swirling pattern that Emma had seen in a few of the sand filled gardens they seemed to favor. 

"It shouldn't have to be a choice. The Fae princess has already agreed!" Cruella growled. Emma looked down at her cup and saucer, her own tea almost completely gone. Chihiro stood and excused herself, the icy silence that followed her absence only broken by Lilly loudly crunching apple tarts while Maleficent and Cruella glared knives at Emma. Before long, the voices of the men grew loud, and Cruella and Maleficent were ushered outside by their partners. 

"There is a way we all win, Princess." Cruella smiled, one thin stream of smoke curling from her mouth as she put out the butt in Chihiro's tea cup. Maleficent glowered at the ashy cup but kept her obvious irritation to herself. "Maybe tomorrow you'll decide to be a better person than any of the people who you call family. Take her place." The two leaders stormed away, and Lilly finally exhaled a long breath. 

"That was awful," Lilly moaned, banging her head on the table with a thud. 

Emma pinched her roughly, gaining a yelp. "Yeah, imagine being the person who that vehemence was _ actually directed at _. And that creepy smoke thing, what was that about?"

"That smoke thing is just something Kitsune do. They like to change forms, make glamors, trick others with their appearances. You should see what they can do with mist." Lilly shrugged. 

"Yeah, well… Super unsettling." Emma shivered. Being deceived by a Kitsune was not something she particularly wanted to experience. 

"Hmph, I mean, they're right in a way. You should take her place, and we'll make you really really comfortable. And you'd win our trust! Plus, Chihiro wouldn't turn into… Er…" Lilly shook her head, correcting herself. "She wouldn't have to go through the rite and could go be free to do what she wants."

"It's no wonder Haku hates me. I saw them fighting, and he seems to really -" Lilly shushed her, dragging Emma outside. 

"Don't talk about them in the open like that," Lilly whispered. "Dragons… We're not supposed to be with Kitsune. We're forbidden to, well, you know. The thing you are totally not doing with the Dark One."

"Oh. Oh!" Emma's eyes widened. "We aren't though. Killian and I are not a thing, and I wish you would stop -" Lilly waved her words aside, scoffing. 

"Sure, sure, whatever. You just danced with him all evening and he looked like he wanted to kiss the daylights out of you. It's nothing, totally nothing; strictly you both being absolutely oblivious when I can literally smell it on both of you - I'm on a tangent. Where was I? Oh, yes. More importantly in relationships - My brother thinks that is why Chihiro was chosen, because they are 'interspecies courting'. He's mad for a great many reasons, and I can't fault him." Lilly sighed, her breath a cloud in the cool air. "As your friend, I think you should replace Chihiro. That seems to be the best for all of us." 

Lilly smiled, but it failed to come through as earnest. Emma hummed and toed a pebble in the ground. 

"I'll think about it tomorrow. You can explain these rites to me, and I'll talk to Killian, examine the risks - we can go from there. Sound good?" Emma smiled at Lilly, but the Dragon princess looked even more pensive, almost sad. With a burst of energy, she turned to Emma, eyes stormy. 

"You should leave. Take Killian, take your ship, slip away into the night and away from this place. Just go and never look back." Lilly stared at her, her words low, and her hands gripping Emma's tightly as she seemed to search Emma's face. Emma heard the truth there, the fear lying just underneath, but as soon as she sensed it, Lilly was laughing. 

"Lilly, are you alright?" Emma asked pulling her hands away, Lilly's laughter bringing a smile to her own face despite herself. 

"Oh, oh Fiore!" Lilly was almost doubled over with laughter. "You should have seen your face. Oh, I would have paid to have it sketched, you were so freaked out!" Her wheezing laughs made Emma sigh and laugh with her, eyes rolling at her ridiculous prank. 

Taking a leaf from Lilly's book, Emma punched the Dragon in the shoulder. 

"Hey - Ow!" 

"You are an idiot." Emma laughed, and Lilly grinned. "It's a good thing that we're friends, or I'd have hit you in your smug face," Emma sniffed, and Lilly roared with laughter. 

Suddenly, she stopped, seemingly struck by a thought. "Wait - you said we were friends? Truly, you agree that this is mutual?" Lilly asked, with quiet excitement. 

"I did. Yeah." Emma smiled. She hooked her elbow in Lilly's, laying her head on her shoulder. "We're an odd mix, a 'strange bedfellows' sort of friendship as they say these days. But," Emma raised a finger, "I like it. You're different, but you’re real. You're genuine. The only friends I've had both at home and in my time here that have actually been my friends, have been like this. I need it. I need real in a sea of all this fakery and lying. So… Thank you." 

Lilly looked at her feet, and Emma saw a small shadow of something pass over her face, but then she was being hugged by Lilly with force. 

"You're my first friend. I guess that makes you my best friend," Lilly whispered. She pulled away, sniffing slightly. 

"Well. Then it is an honor." Emma smiled, smoothing Lilly's hair. 

"Don't tell anyone I cried, or I'll roast you."

Emma scoffed. "I wouldn't dream of it. At least not until I have your clutchmates to protect me." 

"I take back the best friend thing."

"You can't, verbal contract. It's binding. Tough luck." 

Bursting into giggles, they parted ways to head to their respective chambers. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Killian met Emma on his way back from the gentlemen’s meeting, his head still buzzing from the Darkness, the cigar, and the several glasses of brandy toasting in his honor. In truth he had been buzzing all evening since Emma had helped to push the Darkness away, even without alcohol in his system. There was something else, something warmer than the feeling of the liquor in his stomach, the stars a bit brighter and the air a bit thicker. His mouth felt dry, and he felt as if his lips were too dry. In fact, his entire body for once felt starved of touch. Part of him felt like a fool stumbling over questions, while another felt genius for keeping the princess close, maintaining decorum, and protecting the alliance while still protecting her. When Emma took his hand in her own, it was an instantaneous relief like water for thirst. She lead them into the cave they were staying in, and he initially was worried they would be sleeping on rough slabs of rock. 

Instead, to his pleasant surprise, they were roomed in a small tented space inside the cavern, the Dragon’s lavish style clear from sumptuous pillows filled with feather down on a raised platform, silken sheets and soft furs, and a scented oil lamp that could be adjusted. A carved pool that trickled with hot water lay behind a curtain, the water never running cold and allowing for a soak. Several varieties of oils, soaps, and other sundries lay on a ledge that made up the back of the pool, and towels lay near a dressing room where several outfits hung. He quickly washed himself and dressed, but Emma took longer, taking advantage of the soaps and hot water provided.

Emma stepped out from behind the curtain in a simple shift, looking up from braiding her wet hair, and pointing to the raised platform. She almost glowed, and the steam mixed with her soaps smelled divine. He had to be drunk, maybe too many toasts or too many cordials were had, his mind swimming in how beautiful she looked. 

"I made you a bed, next to mine. If you need to move I can just -" she started, gesturing toward the large headboard that took up the back of the room. The size of it made it clear it was a dragon's bed, and he was sure if he checked in what had been his offered suite, he would find his own. Killian took a long couple of strides, hugging her tightly, and she fussed against him, pushing him off. 

"Enough of that, what the hell - you're going to mess up my braid you menace. You're so weird, come on, where is your decorum, sir?" She flicked water at him with a laugh, but he did not relent. "You need sleep and I don't want to deal with you tomorrow being stressed and brooding. They have toasted chicory, and I would prefer to share a cup with you in better spirits than today."

"Bringing out the big guns, like decorum, hm? I must be more of a threat than I thought to her majesty to tempt me with hot beverages. You are too good to a wretch like me." He groaned, and she smacked him playfully until he let go. 

"Yeah, I am, so don't push your luck. Gods, this has all been a disaster. A complete, unmitigated, fuck up." She laughed, pushing herself into the mess of blankets and pillows. 

"I'd agree, but this bed makes up for it, and it's a burden I'm willing to bear while you speak political alliances." He laughed, and Emma snorted. 

"You can't spell terrible without 'T' - and oh, was that tea terrible. You're lucky I survived, and that is not an exaggeration."

"I cannot say I fared worse. The cigars were fine, and the brandy was excellent. The cordials were even better. The Dragon King can put away drinks too, unlike that Kitsune leader. I don't trust that man, he seems… weasel like. He does make a good cider though, so he's only on the short list for potential enemy." Her laughter at his words, sent him into chuckling easily as he put out the lamp. Killian laid in the bed beside her, tension escaping as they made themselves comfortable. It was easy in the softness provided, no hard floor, small bunk, deck, itchy straw, or rocks against the spine they'd grown accustomed to. 

After a moment of basking in the softness while making obnoxious noises of bliss, Emma turned slightly, looking at him over her shoulder. 

"Hey, Killian?" 

"Hm?" 

"After all this, regardless of what happens… You know that I still want you to be my friend, and I will defend you as long as we are."

"Sometimes reality is not that simple." Killian sighed, playing with the end of her braid. "I'd like that, but I don't want you believing that we will have any obligation to each other once you are returned and the Goblin menace is dispatched. I'm not exactly going to be welcomed back into the court, let alone be allowed near the crown princess. Most likely, you may get me a pardon or at least a few days headstart to escape, but regardless, I wouldn't stay or be caught anywhere near the court. I'll disappear to wherever I desire, and you will go back to your princess regimen - If we even survive." 

Emma was quiet for several minutes, to the point where he almost thought she had fallen asleep. 

"Well, if we survive, your heart's desire then. Friends or not, pardon or not, you disappearing or not," she said firmly, giving a nod. He laughed slightly before moving slightly, both adjusting into their sleeping positions. 

"Yours too, princess."

  
  
  
  


In the morning, Killian stretched as the princess snored. Glancing at her, he rose quietly trying his best not to disturb. Emma curled in her sleep, an arm outstretched to where he had been a moment before. She didn't wake, exhaustion easy to understand as her fingers flexed slightly and her breathing steadied. Throwing on a clean set of trousers and a linen shirt, he headed out of the cave and into the light of day. 

There were only a few souls out, the black clad, habit-like hooded, masked 'husks' cleaning the aftermath of the festival. Another set stirred porridge in a large pot while their partner served it with a ladle, their methodical rhythm almost mechanical. He stood in line, grabbing two bowls, only a few Kitsune in front of him. 

"Good morning." He greeted the masked workers, but they did not respond, only plopped porridge into his offered bowls. "... Have a good day?" he said tentatively, but they gave no indication of understanding. He shuddered and returned to the cave after grabbing a pot of toasted chicory he balanced carefully. 

Emma sat up at his return, her hair a wild mess as he handed her a bowl and poured the hot liquid into mugs. 

"Looks like you got a good sleep, hm princess?" he asked, humor lacing his voice. He felt good, a feeling of lightness blooming in him. 

"Shut up. Lemma eaf." She mumbled, shoveling porridge into her mouth. Swallowing, she turned to him. "I'm supposed to go with Lilly all day today and observe these rites that they perform. I know we didn't discuss it last night, but the Dragon Queen and Cruella, the non-cider Kitsune leader, were awfully persistent that I take Chihiro's place in whatever they're doing -" 

"Have you talked about what the process entails? If there's risks involved or one of their rituals is dangerous, we can't just agree."

"Well that's what I wanted to talk about, they want me to watch, but they are so forceful -" 

"Emmmmmmmmmmm-ahhhhhhhhhhh!" Lilly screeched from the mouth of the cave, the echo like nails on a chalkboard. 

Emma winced, throwing blankets aside to leap out of bed, slipping on a robe like gown that tied around her waist. With a flick of her wrist, her hair was styled. She looked at him as if waiting for approval. 

"Well?" she asked, gesturing to herself. "Do I look alright? Not too hungover, or -" 

He chuckled, her nervousness somewhat endearing. "You look fine Swan. You don't have to be this worried, it's probably just some tea ceremony or the ilk. I mean after last night, Mushu said that everything gets very quiet while they wait." 

"It doesn't sound like a tea service, they said they have someone -"

"EMMMMMMMMMMM! AHHHHHHHHHHH!" Lilly roared, and Killian swore under his breath as rocks fell from the ceiling. Emma cringed visibly, her shoulders rising. 

"I'll explain later." Throwing on her shoes, she offered a quick wave to him. "I'll see you later, around lunchtime maybe - Meet me at the library? Knowing you, that's where you'll be anyway." 

"Most likely, yes. There or talking to Mushu at his residence, but the library first and foremost." Killian nodded. 

"Okay. Plan on lunch then." Emma smiled, and turned, running towards the entrance. "Coming Lilly!" 

He shook his head, laughing slightly to himself. After the festival the night before there was a sense of giddiness that he couldn't shake. Finishing his breakfast in silence, he returned his bowls to a mask clad attendant in the washing house as he made his way towards the library. The four masked Kitsune did not regard him, only continued their monotonous labor to an unseen beat. He initially tried counting the husks, but found it was trickier than he initially anticipated. They all looked identical, blurred together, and seemed to move in shifts. Killian found himself wondering just how many husks were on the island and how they had been designated. A plague maybe? With the strange veil it could be a religion of some sort. Either would explain the masks. The feeling of something sitting right below the surface that he could not shake resonated in him, their hollow actions mimicking their given name. Unable to shake off the feeling of arcane sorcery and the low buzz of elemental magic the dragons drew upon, he fled for the library with no intention of stopping. 

  
  



	13. XI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been very, very, VERY ill. Here's the promised update, and I hope to have another soon.

The library had several Kitsune in it when Killian arrived, but as he climbed to the upper level, his immediate concern became the Dragon in the corner. Haku was furiously scribbling down information from a stack of books, throwing them aside in frustration. Killian made the pointed note to stay far away from him and whatever had caused his anger. 

The latest ledgers of the island census were missing as far back as five years, and many of the cultural or study of heritage scrolls were also missing as Killian searched for them amongst the rows. He found a few scrolls of painted art that showed depictions of what the rite aimed to do, though; a Fox spirit in full splendor attacking the barrier and breaking free, it's teeth and many tails shining on display. The actual rites were a mystery as he found those books missing too. 

On a sneaking suspicion, he glanced over at the piles of books Haku had stacked at the desk where he worked, still frantically taking down notes on whatever he was studying. Seeing the same bindings that matched the books in the series, Killian sighed. Of course the Dragon was using them. Resolving to wait, Killian read instead the long history recorded by what once were the Dragon elders, long gone now from the world.

_ In the beginning, there was fire, ice, air, and earth. We came from all four, the blending of these elements making way to the subtler magics, but leaving us perfect in primordial effortlessness. From the blending of the four came the Old Gods, the Elementals, and then magic itself. After that, time, then light and dark, followed as the Gods and Elementals made this world, and all the vast realities between. We found no use for time, for light, or darkness. Only magic, and only the elements were as wild as we. At one time we too could traverse the planes of existences, but that gift has been long lost to us.  _

_ From magic and the elements came the old creatures, many lost to new as they burned too bright, stars bursting into a supernova, creating, changing and destroying the others. Kitsune, Draugr, Kraken, Gorgons, Sphinx, Harpies - they all come from the old magics, brought to life by their own will until there was either nothing left or just enough for permanence.  _

_ Fire and ice made water, which made seas; earth and fire made jewels and metals, it forced rock from the seas that cooled into land. Air, earth, and water made forests that towered above the hungry ground while ice and air made snow, and water, fire, and air created storms. The Old Gods created their own beings from the many new elements that were created; starlight and moonbeams graced Elves as sunbeams and breezes molded the first Fae, born with wings. Dirt and jewels made Hob-Goblins sparkle like quartz, Anisapi the first to stand guard of places of power. Merfolk and the sea dwellers came together as foam that topped great waves and salt, the Gods loving their children as long as they could before their ends befell them. By war, sickness, age, or simply choice, they left the world to who they hoped would treasure it.  _

_ The Old Gods did not teach their children enough, however. They did not teach their children to share, or warn them of the dangers they had kept hidden away. Trying to be like their creators, and with the last few Deities hanging on, an unknown coalition created mortals. While weak and without vitality, they were vicious, bred quickly in their short lives, and became impossible to eradicate. Before long, they were the dominant species of the world created for us. They learned our weaknesses, they learned how to take down the last of the Gods. They cornered us until something was done.  _

_ The first wars cut lands from mortal hands and placed them in our own, establishing the sacred places that mortals should not tread. Even amongst the non-believing, the superstitions and deadly reminders of trespass passed easily through their generations.  _

_ After that, space was limited amongst the races. A peaceful mountain dwelling species of Fae came under attack for their resources and labor by Jeoff N'lan, who imprisoned them. It wasn't until rumors of an insurrection came under the rule of his son, Jeorg N'lan, that their population was decimated. We know them now as -  _

"Reading something good?" Emma's voice made him jump, and he came back to himself with a jolt. She rested her chin on his shoulder, and he could practically taste the honey and sunshine smell that graced her. Coming out from behind him, she placed a picnic basket on the table as he closed the book and set it aside. "I didn't mean to make you jump, it must have been a good book -" 

"Interesting, but not necessarily good," Killian shrugged. He took in her appearance, as she had changed. She looked even better than she had previously, a red gown which had a square cut neckline, her body poured into it as he tried not to notice how lovely she looked. How did she not know the effect she had? He wondered it idly, trying to understand why he was even feeling the effect of her beauty. Sighing, she sat next to him, slumping with her head in her hands. He hesitated when he went to lay his hand on her shoulder, his eyes watching her chest rise, the sigh making her bosom press up, freezing him. 

"Killian, I am not sure how to say this," she began nervously, biting her lip. Under the light of the library, her eyes were sea glass in the sun, bright and sharp. Their appraisal snapped him out of his inappropriate trance, and he refocused quickly as he took in her words. "But I'm beginning to get a little bit scared. There's something off here, and after observing what they're proposing for this rite, I don't know -" 

A book slammed shut across from them, Haku looking at them with his steely eyed gaze. Emma rubbed her temples, body tensing. The Dragon strode over to them, leveling his glare at Emma from across the table. She looked away, and Killian immediately felt ready to spring, coiled in defense of her. 

"You know then, and you know that you could easily take her place?" Haku said quietly, his voice cold. Emma nodded, swallowing hard. 

"What is there to know? Your people chose the Maiden, Emma has nothing to do with -" Killian argued, but Haku let out a yell, his nails digging into the table. 

"You do not have any right to speak on this Dark One. If your grievances are absolved with this Royal, let mine be heard: Don't you feel any repentance for anything, or do you like the weight of your family's legacy on your shoulders?"

Emma closed her eyes, flinching when the Dragon brought his fist down on the table with a loud bang. 

"That's enough -" Killian hissed, but the Dragon shook his head. 

"It will never be enough. You were a hero to our people because you were the answer to the violence her family created, Dark One. We prayed for your return, your revenge on the Royal family, revenge on the Goblins - you were supposed to mete out justice. To think you were distracted by this, this silly girl!" Haku spat at Emma, and she yelped.

Killian ripped the Dragon across the table by his collar, blood pounding in his ears. Lifting his arms, he threw Haku, the Dragon stumbling into the bannister of the stairs down to the main level. 

"Get away from us," Killian hissed. 

"Gladly," Haku gritted out as he straightened, sending a pointed look at Emma.

Killian watched him walk away, Emma shaking in her seat. 

"What the bloody hell was that about?" he asked, before sitting next to her. She shook her head, seemingly trying to find words to explain. 

"These rites - Killian, I'm scared. I -" 

"There you are! Oh how quaint, a basket lunch. Who knew royals as far up in status as you knew how to prepare one," Maleficent purred, walking up the stairs. Lilly followed, her head bowed as she nervously fidgeted with her hands, Isaac trailing behind her. "You ran out so quickly Princess, we weren't done talking about coming to an agreement."

Emma looked up at Killian, pleading with her eyes. 

"The princess and I were talking about your rituals, actually, and thought we might have a moment alone -" 

"Yes of course, but later in the day. There's still so much to show her!" Maleficent purred, yanking Emma back, Lilly catching her as she stumbled. "Princess Emma still has things to see, but I'll leave Isaac here to help you with any questions. Lilly, make haste, come now girls."

Killian smiled apologetically, Emma's look of panic blocked by Isaac's body. 

"What do you want to know? I know almost everything in these books, and I'm the author of more than a few." The shorter man puffed up his chest proudly, and Killian inwardly screamed. Letting his jaw clench into something he hoped resembled a smile, he straightened. 

"I would like to know a bit about the workers I've seen around. The ones that wear the masks and the black outfits, are they a servant class or some leftover of the plague?" he asked, quickly moving to grab the books Haku had been using. Carrying them over, Isaac wrung his hands nervously. 

"Oh, the husks. The Dragons call them 'no faces' because of the masks and their woolen veils, but I think that's a tad tasteless," Isaac chuckled lightly. "They're those who have served us, starting back some sixty odd years. Those left live together with their attendants or with their families if their families so choose."

Killian narrowed his eyes. "Served you? They seem…" He trailed off, unable to find a way to make his meaning less blunt. 

"They seem 'gone'? Well yes, of course they do, and they should! They are fighting, their very essence of spirit attacking the barrier of this prison." Isaac grinned, spreading his palms upward. "That's what the rites are for, they create a trance like state that becomes greater every consecutive turn. This is the year we break free, I can feel it."

"And you want Emma to do this? What are the risks? Is there danger involved -" 

"Now now. The princess is surely capable of making her own choice or coming to you for counsel, yes?" Isaac asked, dropping his hands. His head quirked to the side, and he shrugged. "Besides - The only ones that fear are those who aren't faithful to our teachings. They believe that their loved ones are empty, faceless and lost, not that they are husks waiting for their successful return. The day comes that those still living will have a reunion of body and mind."

Killian thought about Haku's reaction, how vitriolic it was, and glanced at the stack of books. He returned Isaac's grin and nodded.

"Of course. Thank you for elucidating." 

Isaac bowed, backing away. "It was my pleasure to illuminate. I must be off to see to final preparations. Should Emma return, see that you remember our chat? It would certainly help win favor for an alliance."

"Of course, of course. We'll go through the process together if she wishes, and make a decision." Killian watched Isaac's smile falter marginally, confirming his suspicion. 

"Very good then. See that you do." Isaac turned, leaving the library, as Killian furiously began to dig through what Haku had left. The results were frustratingly vague answers about ‘glory to the Kitsune’, who in theory would break through the initial ward, but the magic didn't relate to any sort Killian understood or any ruminations that he was aware of. If anything, it seemed that someone with enough energy could potentially pierce the island's barrier, but any type of assault would need to be targeted, not blanketed as the current ritualistic attempts suggested. The ritual itself was vague, barely described besides a few mentions of a story being written that seemed to usher the chosen into some sort of astral state. 

There was nothing referencing any method in which a husk could be saved, Haku's notes in the margins seemingly indicating that he too had come to the same conclusion. A highlighted passage seemed to be confirmation of this, citing a tethered link being ripped away. Emma could not go through with whatever this was. The thought of her as a stumbling and soulless thing made him feel ill, the image in his mind of her eyes gone gray making him irrationally angry. The island's leaders had to know that this was wrong. A drawing Haku had made of a dome over what must be the island showed what looked like to be fractures, referencing another book on spellcraft, specifically breaking long lasting protection wards. There it showed a sketched illustration of an immortality enshrining spell being fractured while remaining unbroken, resulting in the shamaness inside not retaining her beauty as intended, aging as she should have whilst still remaining alive. Killian shuddered at the thought. 

A dog eared page caught his attention. Haku was a methodical researcher, his notes precise as he followed this ritual to its origins. The marked page was out of place in that regard - a sleeping draughts of great potency, one similar to the sleeping death he himself had given the Queen of the United Realm's, Emma's mother, under the Goblin King’s command. She was famous for overcoming it during the war and her kiss with the man she would later choose to rule by her side had led to his capture. This was not quite that curse, which had taken a great deal of dark magic to create, and ingredients Killian did not want to deal in again if at all possible. It was lesser in its extremity, seemingly focused on lucid dreaming or actively blending the dreams of others with one's own. Did the ritual require some sort of unwaking sleep? That thought was chilling as well, dreams and the magic behind their power were widely known for their unpredictable nature, and Emma’s dreams were beyond powerful and erratic. 

"It seems like you have had an easier day than me. Maybe I'll read, and you go play politics?" 

Emma's voice startled him, and he turned as he stood, almost knocking her over. She looked different than he had last seen her, her eyes kohled and lips red. If the red dress he had seen her in earlier had not attempted to kill him with impropriety, the outfit she wore now had every chance. 

The black dress was by all measure sinful in every facet of its design, and the exhale he gave was choked as she stepped in closer to place her hands on his arms. The pitch black velvet clung to every inch of her toned body, half corset tight but allowing the fullness of her curves, the neckline plunging, and the skirt slit on both sides. A red necklace hung heavy around her neck, the color a deep crimson that seemed to absorb the light. He’d been attracted to the princess before, she was beautiful as it were, but never had he wanted so much to act on it. Not only because of the dress, but because of the way her lips parted, the concerned way she looked at him through the dulled gray green of her eyes under the library lights, her red nails slightly digging into his sleeves - 

As she steadied herself, Killian felt himself falling, unable to catch himself in the sudden vertigo. 

"Emma," he breathed, and her eyes seemed to glint with mischief at how her name was practically wheezed out. He had to compose himself, had to get control - 

Emma leaned in, rising on her toes. 

"I've been waiting to get you alone all day," she whispered, smiling softly, as if she hadn't just made his brain explode. "About earlier -" 

He cleared his dry throat, suddenly far too hot. "Yes, ah, about earlier; you shouldn't go through with anything they try to pressure you into -" 

She laughed, looking at him with amusement. "Oh, no, I know that. What I meant is what I wanted to talk to you about earlier."

He blinked, and while one hand held her steady on his forearm, the fingers on her other hand played with the lacing of the collar of his shirt. Breathing seemed harder, requiring thought. 

"It wasn't about your fears involving the rites here, and the alliance?" Killian asked, and she shook her head. Looking down for a moment, chewing her lip as she let go of him, Emma eyes flitted up at him through her lashes. Taking his hand and squeezing it lightly, she smiled warmly. 

"So… Um. I was scared about talking to you, about finding the right things to say that would make sense. The thing is though… I'm not scared anymore. I feel like I know the answers to my fears just by being near you. You've been so different lately, and I feel like I know you so much better."

"I - I uh - Princess, what is it you're…?"

"You're blushing! Please I don't mean to - oh no -" 

"I'm just not sure what you're trying to convey here, love," he managed to get out, her own face heating in time with his ears. The dress was again another hurdle to his calm, the black velvet slipped tight over the farthest curve of her breasts where it could sit at without being indecent. The color in her face was settling there too, and he dragged his eyes upwards with force. 

Emma stepped forward, and he noticed that she had even streaked her hair jet black in a few places. His mouth went dry, and he licked his lips, trying to fight the wave of carnal thoughts that had suddenly bloomed in his mind. She was so lovely, would feel so right curling into him as he tasted her berry colored lips, finally chasing her properly. What was wrong with him? Where did these indecent thoughts come from - they had been contained when the Darkness had seemed to be held at bay, and yet here on the isle among the festival goers, it roared to life. 

"Killian, you don't know? I've been thinking about what I want, what we mean to each other -" Killian snapped out of the fantasy with difficulty, as if it had tried to trap him or had used some sort of charm on him. Her words didn't seem real, and he rolled them over in his thoughts. 

"What we mean to each other?" he asked. "Wait, Emma, are you suggesting that you - you feel - you want -" 

"I'm not suggesting anything, Killian," she murmured, and he thanked the Gods for approximately six seconds, before her next words fried his brain. "I'm telling you that I think I want something more from you than friendship."

"I --- I -, er… I am -" 

"Aye to you, too. Come find me later, and I'll tell you what I decided. I think you'll be very pleased." Emma twisted her red necklace in her fingers, looking up shyly at him through her lashes. "I know I am."

Another wave of want hit him, stronger than before, his mind going fuzzy at the edges. Emma was too close to him, and yet she stepped closer; he could smell the smokiness of her, the pine woods, soot, chilies, and rice wine. Vaguely he wondered why she didn't smell of her usual honey, vanilla, cinnamon, and rose, but the thought vanished when she pressed her lips to his cheek. 

Quickly retreating as he cupped his cheek, she waved goodbye, leaving down the path from the library with confident steps. 

Killian felt the small ember he carefully stoked inside the most protected regions of his being turn into a flame, hope surging as he tried to focus on anything but his confirmed feelings for the princess. For Emma. The books he tried to read could not hold his attention; nothing could draw him from his racing thoughts. 

He found a note pinned on the outer side of the door as he was leaving, telling him to meet her on the high cliffs as soon as he could, which left him feeling elated, and he smiled at the thought of trying to figure things out with her. The Darkness had been under control, she was always nearby if it wasn't, and her magic was strong. She was smart, unfailing in her kindness, brave, and he had been denying his feelings for so long. Tonight he would deny her just for a few moments longer, all to court her properly. 

There was a flower vendor for the festival he had seen earlier when walking with Mushu, her cart filled with crowns of marigold, chrysanthemums, eucalyptus and carnations. He had also seen a sweet vendor that had marzipan sculptures, noticing the swan immediately. He had planned to get it for her before they left, but tonight was much more perfect. Both in hand as fast as possible, he hoped Emma wouldn't mind his late arrival. If anything, she would be too delighted by the gifts, and Killian could finally, finally do what he realized he wanted for so long - 

"Love, if you think helping the denizens of this isle is a worthy cause, who am I to ever argue with you?" 

Killian froze, turning to the sound that sent chills down his spine. Someone was talking in his voice, a scarily good imitation of it as well. 

"When have you been wrong, Swan? When have you not risen above your challenges?"

"You're right, Killian." 

Emma's voice. His stomach dropped. Moving closer to the conversation tucked into a small aisle behind tents, he saw Emma in her red dress, and himself. Or, a poor facsimile of himself; there were a few streaks of white in his hair, and his nails seemed pointer even in the dim light. The doppelganger seemed to notice, carding a hand through, covering the white with his palm and burying them there. The other hand went snugly into his pocket. 

"I know. I have no fear for you either, so take that as reassurance. After you succeed, it will be easy to take on the Darkness… and we could…" The fake slipped an arm around her waist, tipping her chin up and stroking her face. It was like a punch in the gut, the way she blushed and swooned so innocently, the reaction so sharply different than her earlier forwardness. Killian felt the growing suspicion that it wasn't Emma that had visited him but another, realizing with anger that his feelings had been twisted into vulnerability. 

"We can talk about something more, what comes next. A future," his double whispered, laying his forehead against Emma’s. 

"I'd like that," she replied as she smiled. 

Killian began walking towards them, his rage boiling over at this deceit and jealousy that flamed into a blaze. The manipulation that was in play to create the idea she actually - that she could possibly feel something like that for him and that they could make something work; the idea was ridiculous when laid out. The princess being courted by the war criminal. Jealousy wasn't what he was feeling; he couldn't be jealous when she had been tricked, or when he had been weak. Emma didn't want anything from him, truly. He moved through the tents, following Emma to make sure that she put distance between herself and his fake, watching her through the gaps. In the cage he held tightly closed, the Darkness rattled. It took in a gasp of air, straining in its bonds. 

_ No one could ever want you, stupid, weak, petulant man.  _

** _No one._ ** _ _

_ No one, and  _ ** _especially_ ** _ not  _ ** _her_ ** _ .  _

_ Someone so good, you would break her, you would never work.  _

** _Never_ ** _ .  _

_ Imagine what scars you would give her, imagine how easily she would see how  _ ** _pathetic_ ** _ you are…  _

He stumbled, felt the pressure of someone strong on his back as he struggled, albeit briefly. A cloth was pushed over his mouth and nose, a prick of some sort of dart hitting both sides of his neck one after the other. It took seconds for his eyes to go bleary, the world spinning as he fell. 

Haku looked down at him, frowning. 

"I'm sorry," Haku whispered. The words swam along with everything else in his vision, but Killian valiantly tried to crawl towards where Emma had been, following the sound of his voice, his voice used by another. 

"Hurry now love. Don't leave Isaac waiting; they'll need you as soon as possible."

Emma's voice was bright as she called over her shoulder with a wave, unaware of Killian’s groan as he reached for her, unseen behind the many tents as Haku dragged him away. 

"I'll be seeing you soon, Killian."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The amount of interference and pressure the combined Dragon royals and the Kitsune leaders held all day on Emma was absolutely unbearable. At the beginning of the morning, Lilly had dragged her to a bathhouse, the beauty and ornateness of the place overshadowed by the obnoxiously rude company. Emma was given a robe like wrap made of thick damask, golden fish swimming on the blue fabric. Lilly helped her put it on, ignoring Emma's objections at her intrusion while she was partially nude. 

Chihiro wore a white gown, not making a sound even with bells tied in her long black hair. They glinted in the sunshine along with her braided ribbon as they all moved through the hallways, polished wood catching their many colored reflections. A paper screen door opened to reveal a large bath surrounded by rocks, a waterfall cascading into the steaming pool. One by one the women disrobed, dipping themselves, and Emma followed suit with a blush. The water felt heavenly, even if the conversation was not. 

"So, the women as a congregation join the Maiden in her cleansing, where we all purify ourselves and commune with our ancestors," Lilly sighed, kicking her toes out of the water. From across the steam, Emma could see the great plumes of green smoke coming from where Cruella sat. When the steam parted, Cruella's eyes were focused solely on her, giving Emma chills even in the heat. "After this, we go get massages, then we get facials, then tea. Then we take a processional walk through the sand gardens, after which we do a lantern ceremony in the turtle pond. Lastly, we head to the cathedral for the final rites."

"I have plans to lunch with Killian -" Emma said cautiously, biting her lip. 

"Because of course you do," Lilly said with an eye roll. 

Emma smiled innocently. "Is there a way I can sneak away at some point?" She batted her eyes and Lilly snorted. 

"Yes, of course there is," Lilly sighed, annoyed. "But getting a chance to while fielding my Mother and Cruella is going to be tricky for you. After this, that is. Enjoy the reprieve while you have it."

"Oh no, really?" Emma let herself whine. While unbecoming, it worked effectively well for Lilly, and was fair turnabout. "Lilly, will you buy me some time? You owe me for last night."

Lilly's eyes became more cool, and calculated. She looked at Emma conspiratorially, pointing up a finger before wagging it in her direction. "Alright. One condition though." 

"Sure, I guess?" Emma said with a slight shrug. Realizing the current situation, she let herself float her toes up and down in the water in slow kicks, adding with a little edge of warning, 

"Just don't be weird" 

Lilly nodded, looking away. The Dragon collected herself, looking resolute as she began to speak in a slow and careful manner. "You've heard a lot about how much people want you to do this, but today you are going to hear some of the why. I want you to hear my reasons." Taking a deep breath, she continued while obviously trying to keep from speaking too fast. "I don't love Mushu. He's like a brother to me, a truly close friend, but I don't and have never loved him. I don't believe he feels anything for me either, but I don't care to know in fear of sympathy winning me over. We simply don't have any other options - the royal lineage either goes on, or dies with me. Unless we escape. Unless somewhere, pockets of dragons survived that did not follow the call of our elders - then I am like you, forced into a loveless marriage."

Emma had to bite off the urge she had to scoff. 

"I mean, not quite, but sure I guess. What other reasons are there?" 

"There's a lot, Emma. A whole lot. This barrier is killing us, and killing any chances of a future for the entire island." Lilly grimaced, closing her eyes. "I hate everything that the pressure from all sides under it has made us become; made  _ me _ become. I hate what it's done to my family."

"I’m truly sorry, Lilly. I will try to consider this as I make my decision." Emma patted her hand, and Lilly smirked, pawing an eye. 

"Yeah," Lilly bit out, the teasing quality in her voice softer. "As I pressure you. Fiore, there's no end in sight. Come, let us at least get this tension lifted from our shoulders."

She rose along with a few others, stepping into beautiful thick silk robe like dresses held by attendants. Emma followed, letting herself be ushered into a small room with a table in the center, a paneled paper divider opening revealing a room beyond that with the same layout as the first. With the divider pushed in to halve the start of the room, Emma was led to the further table while Lilly was disrobed. Emma's attendant followed by taking her own robe, laying Emma down so she could only see Lilly's head and shoulders her own attendant was pouring oil over her upper back. Emma felt the liquid slip over her own, flinching, before practiced fingers pressed long held tension away. She tried not to moan loudly, her body coiled tight since before she had fallen into this world. 

Neither Lilly or the attendants were conversationalists, nor were there interruptions, leading Emma to daydream contently like she had done before falling through the portal into this world. After what felt like only a few minutes, Lilly's snoring joined the quiet sounds of hands working their bodies, and Emma let herself doze in and out, feeling safe for the first time in… 

A part of Emma struggled to give the answer, torn. It should have been before Nil, and before her life was thrown off its natural course, but the truth that had popped immediately into her mind confused her. As did the fact her daydreaming kept leading her to strange places, and thoughts that were untoward, childish, and ridiculous. The last time she felt safe was much more recently, to only the last night Killian laid next to her. She'd woken from the same recurring nightmare, Nil advancing just a bit further each time, but Killian had been there immediately with his arms around her tightly. 

He'd mumbled a mixture of soft, soothing things in a rough voice heavy with sleep, letting her face lay against his chest so she could hear his steady heartbeat, feel his breathing, bringing herself to calm as his nose buried in her hair. There was a sort of intense intimacy in that, and she had woken when he had begun to pull away gradually, slowly even. He began growing more fitful and Emma had struggled not to wonder if it was because he wasn't tired, but if instead… If whatever part of him that governed sleep, governed the way his innuendos had stopped, or governed the way he was when he was drunk enough to hold her close had wanted him to stay that way. Either way, she had felt cozy, and fiercely protected by him. 

Her daydreaming was not protected from him though, and had been wandering to the feel of his hands on her thigh, the way she knew his lips were soft, the secret way his fingers trailing from her curls to trace patterns on her shoulder when he comforted her, and what it might be like to have the silly idea that he felt even the slightest attraction to her be not so silly. Graham had once brought her flowers, before her father's intervention, but Emma wondered if he would court her in the modern ways of the world outside the barrier, the ways of the strict rules her parents might expect, or even the traditions here that were bits of both with their own unique twists. Killian would be a gentleman no matter how long the path the courtship was, and for that reason she felt even more longing for him. 

Maybe Lilly was right and they did both want each other? Emma drifted further into the pleasure of that idea, even as noise started in Lilly's room. The eventual heated tone and rising volume of an argument brought Emma back from her musings with quickness. 

"She should meet her, Father Isaac says to have faith and I have. I've been faithful since both sets of our parents were taken, and I've been faithful waiting for Aurora. This is a chance for her. It's like she isn't even there anymore. I can't even remember the blue of her eyes, her eyes used to be blue, almost violet. Now they're that wretched, empty, gray - "

"Phillip, be calm and be silent, I'm working on it. I don't want to pressure her and all of you are making it very difficult," Lilly hissed lowly. "Trust me, I want this as much as you, but we can't just tell them that this is a potential outcome when they don't understand."

" _ I _ don't understand. I don't understand why it feels like Aurora isn't even in there anymore. I miss her so much; we were trying to start a family and then this happened. When she gets back,  _ if  _ she gets back, how much time will be left?" The man's voice was growing more plaintive, and Emma tried to control her breathing to maintain the illusion she was sleeping. Her attendant hesitantly moved away, and Emma risked a glance at Lilly's room. 

The Dragon was in another of the heavy silken damask robe dresses speaking with an angry looking man, one who could only be Phillip. He was tall and broad, deep chestnut hair and a boyish face that was well tanned. Next to him stood a husk, its black cowl and mask still even as Phillip gesticulated. 

Emma had felt the strangeness of the husks pull before, attributing it to the island's own unique feeling of arcane forces. Everything on the island pulled at her, as if the ground was trying to absorb the very elements it was created from, starved of its own power. The husks were like this, but with the force of a cyclone, a gaping maw of a vacuum that demanded to be filled. This husk was no different, the stillness of it betrayed by how it gave off a dark and desperate feeling of need. 

"Please, you need to -" 

"I don't need to do anything, especially when you aren't even included in the lottery!" the man yelled. 

"Yes," Lilly drawled, sounding annoyed but dismissive. "Being on the door of extinction as a species is the epitome of an exit strategy. Bravo Phillip, you figured it out."

"Lilly, you know what I mean! I don't know how anyone else does it. She isn't Aurora anymore; she doesn't eat, doesn't sleep, doesn't talk or smile or sing - I miss her singing. I used to complain about her singing all the time and now, and now I -" 

"We need to talk somewhere else; the princess is going to wake up and I'm going to have to -" 

Emma's attendant closed the screen between their rooms, separating them once again, and leaving Emma alone as the voices carried out into the hall. The silence was not broken by any attendant, and Emma rose quietly to sit. A beautiful dress of her own sat out, in the same traditional style as Lilly's. It was a soft violet, patterned with swans, and cherry blossom blooms. Lilly had helped her tie the previous dress in the style they wore, a thick bow on the back accented with sparkling ropes that ended in beading or bells, but Emma found it was very difficult to do herself. With a few muttered curses, she managed to get it in some type of semblance just as she heard shuffling steps on the other side of the divider.

"Lilly is that you?" she called quietly. The answering noise of a soft keen came from the other room. Emma huffed out a breath as she tried to adjust the bow again. "Oh, good. Will you help me with this? I'm afraid I have it a bit askew."

The footsteps shuffled slowly to the sliding door, waiting there. Lilly let out a small moaning noise, and Emma rolled her eyes as she walked to the door herself, holding the dress in place the best she could with one hand. She attempted to push the sliding door, but it did not budge, Lilly's side holding fast. 

"Lilly, is your side stuck?" Emma asked, surprised at how quiet Lilly was being. As she thought about it, she wondered if the argument between Phillip had gone so poorly as to mollify her friend into contrition, a feeling of intense anger and upset pouring from the other side of the door. Emma swallowed hard, ready to hold knowing about the fight tightly to her chest until it could be used to her advantage. If Lilly was involved in any sort of trickery, it might be easier to coax it out with this information. The thought made her sad, but it wasn't as if it was unlikely. 

Lilly rasped something on the other side of the door, Emma's ears unable to make it out. Another soft moan followed, and a strange 'Ah' sound was heard as the divider door rattled. Emma pressed again, but the divider screen stuck firmly on its track, not sliding to open at all. Lilly was holding it shut. 

"Lilly, this isn't funny. What are you playing at?" Emma grunted, pushing harder, but the door did not give despite her best efforts. Lilly held fast on her side, her breathing heavy. Emma felt uneasy, letting go of the screen as a chorus of whispers and strange moans broke out in many voices behind the door where Lilly stood. 

The lights in Emma's room, a few simple paper lamps, went out suddenly all at once as the divider door began to rattle. From the brightness of the other room, shadows showed against the paper, people filling the space as they pressed against the divider wall, hands silently beating and clawing. Emma's hands covered her mouth as she backed up further, until she ran into the table she had been sitting on, the rattling of the door becoming louder. The voices converged, no longer whispering but now many chanting the same words against the paper. 

"Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungryyyy…!" 

The rattling stopped, the lamps in the other room going out. The divider stood dark in the pitch of the room, everything silent but Emma's thundering heart. As her eyes adjusted, she heard the door slowly slide open, her panic at what lie behind too much, too much, something was in that shadow waiting - 

The door slid open fully, revealing nothing on the other side. Emma let out a nervous laugh, her hands shaking as she lowered them. Taking deep breaths, she steadied herself, and began to put things together. 

This was obviously a Kitsune trick, Lilly most likely involved as well. It wasn't as if she shouldn't have expected it; Lilly had warned her enough times about their prankster ways and Emma's own distinct lack of popularity. 

Walking toward the door to leave, she was surprised to meet a solid black wall as she bounced back from it. The divider was blocked by a black surface, that when pressed was slightly opaque as it let her hand sink slightly. It reminded her of the Selkies flesh when they wore their pelts, the blubbery skin letting her hand sink a bit as she petted. This was not soft or furry like that however, but like that of a great mottled toad. Emma pulled her hand away and it came back wet, a black viscous slime sticking to her palm. She flicked it away, taking a step back and letting her other hand card over her face and into the crown of her hair. 

Wet and warm gunk fell on her hand and into her hair, her fingers pulling away in shock as she examined the sticky, clear, bubbled slime. It looked like some sort of - Another glob hit her head, and she looked up. 

The husk mask was in the middle of the ceiling on a great  _ thing _ , its mass huge and stretched. Black spider like arms pressed to the corners to hold its own bloated weight, its torso was stretched up through the divider, like some sort of slug. Under the mask, a dark mouth opened displaying broad, flat, teeth the size of dinner plates. A tongue lolled out slowly, dripping more thick dollops of drool. 

A single small 'Ah' came from its throat, causing Emma's eyes to go wide with terror. She felt rooted on the spot, unable to move; a glance down quickly confirming another set of arms had wrapped around her, a hand with two long fingers encircling her body. The thing smiled at her with its uneven teeth, lifting her as she tried to remember how to scream. 

"Hungry!" it roared, Emma finally shrieking in its grasp as its long tongue wrapped around her and she was plunged into its mouth. 

Images assaulted her, the smell of the creature acrid, musky, and cloying. 

_ An older woman sipping tea with deep wrinkles around her brown eyes. A dark haired man making smoke rings, his young son clapping at the shapes. A woman with a patient smile and raven curls tucking in the beds of children she has taken in to mother, afraid of nothing more than orphaning them again. A man with a beard and mustache the color of wetted stone, his eyes tired but posture proud. A beautiful maiden singing while gathering blueberries, her golden blonde hair catching on the sunlight as birds sung along. An older boy playing ball on the shore, shaggy hair in his eyes as he ran, his grin huge. A plump woman with reddish curls and a saucy smile, throwing tiles in some sort of game. A sullen young man with a shock of red hair, his tall height able to reach books in the library he needed.  _

The voices grew louder still, her head pounding and ears ringing. 

"HUNGRY. HUNGRY!" 

A soft, melodious woman's voice sung through the noise, overcoming it. Emma recognized it as the tune she had heard in the strange vision of the woman picking blueberries. Her pretty words were hurried as if she was out of breath. 

"Help us. Please, help us."

The woman was swallowed by the noise again, the thing bellowing out its hunger as Emma felt its rage at being so hollow, desperate for anything to make it whole. It tore at itself as it screamed in fury, Emma's own screams lost under its cries. Hands clawed at her, shaking her as she struggled in the increasing pressure of the blackness; it would crush her surely, and soon she would be without air. 

A hard pinch on her side made her yelp, the noise fading as she opened her eyes to meet Lilly's look of annoyance. 

"What are you doing? Why are you down there freaking out like that?" she asked, pulling Emma up by her elbow. Shaking, Emma looked around the room, the husk standing in the corner with its face to the wall. Its mask lay on the floor between them, and Emma backed away as she pointed at it, unable to form words.

Lilly looked at the husk and shook her head. "Yeah, they do that sometimes. They like to be behind things, as if they find comfort in not seeing or not being seen. The masks help with that."

"No, no, that thing - it attacked me!" Emma blurted, and Lilly raised an eyebrow before laughing raucously. "Lilly, it tried to eat me or did, it was -" 

"Husks don't do anything unless you patiently, and I  _ mean _ patiently, teach them. Even then, it can't be a complicated task or they'll wander off in search of some wall or cubby hole to stick their head in." Lilly shook her head as she giggled. "They don't eat or sleep, don't talk at all, so if you saw something it was most likely not her."

"But she - it did! It was a monster Lilly; it spoke to me and told me it was hungry. I don't know how I -" 

"If Aurora could speak, she would not have wasted her voice on you," a male voice said coldly. Phillip brushed past Lilly and into the room, sighing with frustration as he picked up the discarded mask. "If Aurora could speak, she'd talk to her husband who has been waiting for her to come back since she laid down in that cathedral and this took her place. She would answer when I ask her questions, where she went, if she's safe, and if she's coming back like she promised… she promised me… " His voice broke, and Emma looked down at her bare feet with shame. 

"Phillip, it was probably a Kit trick on her; she doesn't know about how difficult it is -" Lilly soothed, moving closer to Phillip. He instead turned, pulling the husk from the corner and facing it towards Emma. 

"Does this look like a monster to you?" he asked, his voice and body tense. 

The husk's face was visible in its habit, everything else swathed in black. She was pretty, her features familiar to Emma although it was difficult to place them or why the woman made her neck hair rise in nervousness. 

Emma shook her head indicating no, averting her eyes to once again look at her feet. 

"Kitsune wouldn't cross the line with this sort of prank. It could have gotten Aurora hurt, and she wouldn't be able to come back. No Kit would dare." He prodded a finger at Lilly, and she shifted uncomfortably. 

"If you're implying it was one of us -" Lilly began, her voice going steely. Phillip interrupted without pause. 

"I'm implying that I want no part in games, or politics any longer. This was a mistake." He held the husk a bit tighter, running a hand over the black fabric that covered her head. His voice softened. "I only want Aurora back." 

"I hope she comes back to you soon," Emma said lightly. "And I am sorry. I know what I saw, but never meant to -" 

"Keep the rest of your apology, princess. The beginning was enough," Phillip said coldly. He ushered the husk to the far door, its habit now askew revealing long golden blonde hair. Once placed back over her head, he placed the mask over where only her face was visible. Emma watched them go, now convinced that the woman with the blueberries who had sung and begged for help was none other than Aurora. 

Lilly interrupted her thinking. "So did you drink some special tea, or something? Or did you see smoke?" 

"Forget about it, Lilly," Emma whispered. "I… I think I'm ready to go have lunch with Killian. Can you help me steal away with a picnic basket?" 

"I can, but not for long. We slept through some of the minor traditions, so the next are really important. We have the communion with the spirits and the sacred tea ceremony before Chihiro drinks her own to traverse the veil." Lilly leaned against the table Emma had been massaged on, thinking hard. "My mother and Cruella surely have plans to grill you before that. You'll have to be quick, and leave as soon as we finish the bell ceremony in the cathedral."

"I can be. Also, not to be terribly rude, but…" Emma bit her lip and displayed her very askew and barely secured dress for Lilly's appraisal. "I would very much like to wear something that does not require so much tying and folding, please."

Lilly rolled her eyes, pursing her lips. Dragging Emma to a closet near the entrance of the bath house, she pulled out a few dresses before pushing them back in the overfilled space. Finally she found one that suited her discernment, giving it to Emma. 

"This will work. Red protects from bad spirits, and collects energy. It gives power. It suits you." Lilly helped Emma out of her dress (what Lilly called a Yukata, and Emma sighed in defeat at Lilly's, pristine and tied tight) and into the red dress. It was barely corseted, which seemed to be in favor here on the island, with a square neckline and a flare at the hips that led to a full skirt. The red was a deeply pigmented crimson, the sleeves and way the dress fit on her body as if it was made for her. 

Lilly walked with her to the cathedral, a picnic basket hidden between their skirts that they had pilfered from the kitchens in the bathhouse. 

"So we drink this tea, to commune with spirits, and Chihiro drinks a special blend of it?" Emma whispered as they walked along the path to another ornate building. Lilly nodded. "Why?" 

"The tea allows her to traverse the veil, gaining power and trust from the other spirits. She will undergo trials that allow her to command a targeted attack of the barrier, which can only be achieved by strengthening herself," Lilly intoned. 

Entering the cathedral was like being thrown into ice water. The power that lurked there and the energy made her feel queasy, the ever present feeling of wrongness heightened and magnified under the splendor of its roof. She ran to see Killian, but was cornered before she could explain anything, led back by Lilly and her mother. 

It was enough to send Emma into an uneasy conflict with herself and the power of her magic. The scope of how broken the barrier spell seemed to be, the chaotic anger of the spirits chipping away at it, how magic itself was decaying in swaths underneath it along with the population - the mounting pressure was enormous without the heavy handed encouragement of the involved parties. Later, she stumbled out of the cathedral without grace into the fresh air, her mind full of questions. A fair of sorts was being set up while the Maiden began her sleep, and Emma walked among the tents idly looking at the sugar sculptures, glass beads, dream catchers, and charms while trying to seek out Killian, finding him nowhere. 

She saw him turn the corner out of the corner her eye, spinning to look to where he had gone, but he seemed to round the opposite corner in the reflection cast by a gilded hand mirror in a booth. Emma felt herself getting lost even among the small amount of vendors, following phantoms that turned out to be mist with frustration. A hand caught her shoulder, and with relief she turned to find Killian smirking at her. 

"Looking for someone, pet?" he teased, and she sighed through a huff at his humor at her expense. In the light, his hair seemed to gleam silver, almost white, but she shook off the strange ideas that seemed to be whispered in the air surrounding them, surprised by the boldness of her imagination. It was not the time to think about how silky his uncut fringe would be between her fingers, or how soft he'd kiss below her neck if she was someone he wanted. 

"Princess?" Killian whispered salaciously, as if reading her thoughts. Emma's knees seemed to grow suddenly weaker, to her great concern, but that only made her resolve grow stronger. 

Straightening her shoulders, she spoke firmly as not to be tongue tied. "I felt unsettled, and I came to you. I have to ask of you to help me make a decision. Do you think I should take Chihiro's place and undergo this rite myself? Do you believe that it will help both sides?"

"It's the best thing we've got to get them allied to our cause. Give them everything you have. You have a reputation for being the Savior to live up to, after all." He was acting strangely, his usual nervous ear scratch replaced by scratching at his neck. His nails seemed sharper, but the light was poor as the sun fell. Emma laid a hand on his and he flinched away, bowing his head slightly. He buried a hand in his hair, looking bashful, before taking a deep breath to look at her with a sort of pride. 

"Love, if you think helping the denizens of this isle is a worthy endeavor, who am I to ever argue with you? When have you been wrong, Swan? When have you not risen above your challenges?" He searched her face, and for a moment she thought Lilly might be right about him feeling something. The idea made her stomach flutter with hope. 

Emma sighed. "You're right, Killian." 

He stepped closer, and her heart felt as if it might pound out of her chest. He'd been so forward here, but she never thought or would have even guessed that he had any interest in her, or intentions. Emma let him fill her space, the idea of him wanting to court her, or the thought of the thousands of ridiculous romances she was able to have Ruby sneak her into the castle and the scenarios therein, made her think longingly of what she possibly wanted. That is, possibly wanted with  _ him _ . 

"I know. I have no fear for you either, so take that as reassurance. After you succeed, it will be easy to take on the Darkness… and we could…" Her heart skipped a beat, Killian slipping an arm around her waist, tipping her chin up and stroking her cheek. It was as if there wasn't enough air in her lungs. Blushing, she fell forward into him slightly because of dizziness. It was so warm, the night air not cooling her skin any longer, and indecent thoughts of everything he could do to her were like a spring garden's flowers, ready to be picked. 

Emma tried to speak, but couldn't find the words to do so. She settled for breathing his name out on a whisper, watching him smirk. As the wind blew gently, his eyes softened. 

"We can talk about something more, what comes next. A future." His whisper while laying his forehead against her own was so tender. 

"I'd like that." She smiled. 

"Hurry now love. Don't leave Isaac waiting, they'll need you as soon as possible."

"I'll be seeing you soon, Killian."

He gave her a wave, and she did not hear him whisper under his breath, his voice becoming a feminine purr. 

"Sweet dreams, princess."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma was found wandering the beach in a silken gown, with no memories of how she had gotten there. The village on the island was abuzz with it; nothing like the strangeness that her arrival heralded happened in the Blackwater, excitement in short supply. Not only was she a wisp of a thing, but she could not be a day older than seven or eight to his eleven or Liam and Elsa's fourteen. Liam had taken him to the shore to watch alongside the others as Isaac held her hand, helping her off the small beach and up the cliff side. There, hidden in the trees where no one could see, Emma Swan looked at him for the first time, her green eyes like another forest he could lose himself in. His father and mother had chastised him over dinner - worrying about some peasant girl was not fitting for his social stance as a Blackwater lordling. 

The next time he saw her, she was dancing at a harvest ball, her hair braided with autumn leaves and ribbon. It had been several years, his interest in girls going slightly beyond love notes and hand holding if that. She still drew his eyes, spinning lazily in her embroidered gown, looking like a falling blossom. Even Liam had been caught by her spell, and Killian had secretly hated him for his boldness and smooth confidence as he walked toward her. 

She froze when Liam asked her for a dance, looking at him with such confusion, as if he was a ghost. Sir Isaac ushered her away, and Killian shrugged. Liam told him later that the petrified girl had told him that he wasn't real, and had asked for Killian by name. She hadn't used proper titleage or etiquette, just his name again and again more shrill in each utterance, until Isaac took her to rest at his home. 

No one could say what happened, other than she was ill. Some said that she mumbled madly about both the future and the past, events that would come to pass or secrets that she should not know. Tongues wagged in the Blackwater; finding the truth therein was like finding a needle in a haystack. 

The seasons changed, no questions answered, and Emma was rarely around to create enough intrigue for questioning. The questions stopped eventually as she became the village herbalist, sending her wares down the mountain from her cliffside cabin with her friend Lilly. His good friend and the Lady of the Baelfire side of the Isle, Milah, confessed she had never bought Emma's strange remedies - but she credited that to her renouncing witchcraft in all forms, her name safe from spells and mind safe from the sale of esoterics. 

Magic ran rampant through the Blackwater, as they were all Fae, but it was taboo to do more than simple charms or common place spellwork. Potions, incantations, divining the future, enchanting, and the many manners of magic Emma did easily made her an outcast - and Milah agreed with the townsfolk that Emma was in league with a Demon, making her a witch. Rumors swirled that the Demon had stolen her sanity as payment for her skills. On some nights if you looked to the cliffs, a strange glow in many different colors radiated from Emma's small cabin. That did little to quell rumors. 

Life in the village went on. Killian and Milah grew closer, and they fell in love in a whirlwind romance that seemed to take the entire Blackwater with it. Their marriage was expected, and easily approved. As soon as their small home was up near the library Killian dutifully cared for, his brother followed suit. Liam and Elsa married, much to his father’s, Ingrid's, and Nemo's delight. His mother was gone for several years now, but he thought she would be proud of her children. 

Unlike the intimate affair Killian had held, the entire village was present for Liam’s marital feast. 

Including Emma. 

Her hair was in a wild braid, her dress without corseture or boning, flowing in swaths of mossy green cotton. Her fingers were stained in different colors, ranging from ochre to blackberry, crimson to indigo. 

And her eyes. They were suddenly the brightest green Killian had ever seen. 

Milah begged him not to say hello to Emma, making a symbol with her thumb, index and smallest finger that likened the woman with having horns. Like the rest of the villagers, her belief that Emma was a Demon-led witch held strong, even as they bought her herbal remedies from Lilly. Killian obliged, as not to upset his wife. In the end it was wise. As his brother stood to give a toast with Elsa looking on in adoration, there was a struggle in the back of the room. Emma was wild eyed, pointing at Liam and Elsa. 

"This is - it's impossible, this doesn't - please I don't understand, this isn't real! Someone help, why is this being shown to me? I need to get out of here, these are ghosts, memories - They aren't real! You are dead! Dead!" 

Emma's cries brought gasps from the crowd, with Nemo, Lilly, and Isaac pulling her from the room. Milah shook her head and muttered a prayer; the herbalist herself confirming the rumors that she had bouts of madness. Sir Isaac and Lilly desperately tried to keep her as rooted in reality as possible, but it was clear that she could not handle this event for whatever reason. She was calmed with a jacket and gag Isaac had made, sitting in the back where the sight would not disturb anyone. Although Killian thought it was barbaric to tie someone into sitting quietly (even in a wheeled chair), he thought that Emma was lucky enough to find an adoptive family like Sir Isaac and Lady Cruella. 

A strange feeling of wrongness fell on him, the hair on the back of his neck prickling. They were Fae, they should be able to heal her, heal each other, even in matters of madness. The thought had barely crossed his mind when Milah pulled him into a dance. As they spun with the other guests, Emma's eyes met his, Milah and him both laughing at Ingrid's clumsy footwork as she danced nearby. To his surprise, Emma smiled at them with the saddest look he had ever seen before she was wheeled away, disappearing into the crowd. 

That night he dreamed of Emma, even as Milah slept next to him in their marital bed. 

_ "You have to. You have to, before she's gone."  _

_ Killian felt his mouth go dry, looking down at Emma's sleeping form. "This was a bad deal Lilly. You were supposed to be her friend, why did you let her do this?"  _

_ "I fucked up. Please. You have to save her before she turns her into a shell of what she was or worse; you have to get her out of there. There's a potion, a sleeping draught or something - I don't know. I tried it and was able to get to her; but it's dangerous. She can -" _

_ "I don't care. We can't stand around here while she… While she… I can't believe you did this, and that she agreed. Of all the stupid ideas to follow through on -"  _

_ "Killian, it's not like I had a choice!" Lilly snapped. Killian glared, his anger threatening to boil over.  _

_ "Bullshit, Lilly. Whatever you have to tell yourself, right?" _

_ "Just listen. I was going to get her out, but you don't understand. My mother, Cruella, Isaac - none of them have seen anything like this. You can lose yourself in there; it takes over everything, rewriting your entire existence."  _

_ "Then I'll lose myself happily. She'd already be doing that for me if it were me."  _

_ "And for me. I hope Emma never forgives me," Lilly sniffed.  _

_ Killian felt his jaw clench, something in his head clawing at his thoughts as he pushed it away. "That would make two of us, but she will. Emma is too good for the likes of us." _

He woke with a start, Milah slightly stirring as he tried to remember the fragmented bits of the dream that lingered. 

Years passed, and Emma interacted with the village in small, rare, interactions. She bought food sparingly, but more often than not, Lilly bought it for her. The village was quiet, and Emma was too unpredictable, too loud. Killian professed sympathy for her, and Milah agreed that the herbalist truly had a terrible fate. 

Then Milah fell ill. 

It was nothing like he'd ever seen, as if she was being erased, her body falling apart quickly and her vibrancy muted. She became a shell, her fatigue and pain without relief until Milah let him try Emma's wares. A salve gave Milah almost instant comfort, and Killian bought as much as he could. As Milah deteriorated, they required more and more until they were out both at home and at the small stall where Lilly peddled her wares. When he asked for more, Lilly raised an eyebrow. 

"You could ask Emma. She does make the rare house call for extreme cases," Lilly whispered behind a cupped hand. 

So, Killian climbed the mountainside, up to the cliff Emma's cabin stood on. He peered in, noting how sparsely furnished the space was. There was no one inside, so he made his way to the back, following soft singing. Wearing a paint splattered cotton gown that did nothing to hide her body's shape, Emma stood with a brush grasped lightly in her fingers. Her hair was long and thrown back into an unkempt tumble of curls with no bonnet in sight, no corseture around her waist, and her feet were bare in the warm evening as she sang. 

Killian watched her paint in small strokes, tongue poking out as she finished and wiped her palms together with a clap. Her song abruptly ended and she turned to face him. 

"You're here," she said quietly. 

Her eyes were still so very green. 

"I… Beg pardon?" Killian shook his head, confused by why she seemed to stun him. For the first time things felt real, the moss and rocky soil on his feet even more so. "I'm here for -" 

"For Milah's medicine, yes. It's on the table there." She nodded her head to a small clay jar. He opened it, looking at the strange paste inside. Who had told her he was in need of it? 

"How did you -" 

"Not important. What is important, Killian, is that this will only help her for a day or two." Killian looked at the jar in his hand, terrified. Yes, Milah was getting worse, but days left? There was no way. Emma looked unflappable, her face empathetic. 

"What's wrong with Milah?" 

"It's complicated. She's wasting away, and I can't, she's - all I can do is slow it down. I'm so sorry, I know you both are so happy, and if I could do more I would. I can see how much you dream of a long life with her, and how scared you are of losing her." Emma seemed upset by his inquiry, and began to fidget. "I could possibly extend things longer if I was there, but… This will make things more comfortable. Less nightmarish."

"I'll ask Isaac, I'll beg -" 

"Lilly is a better bet. She sneaks me out to the beach, or makes distractions, and covers for me. She could… cover for me to help you."

"I'll ask her to, and to watch out for Isaac for us, but you'll come, right? Please say -" Killian began. Emma hushed him quietly. 

"Of course. I can't imagine how much of a torture this is, and I'm sorry. I'm trying to make it better, I don't want this fear to hurt you. I just - I don't know how any of this is happening, but while it is, I don't want you to -" Emma stopped and closed her eyes, lip caught in her teeth, as if collecting her thoughts. "I don't want either of you to hurt. I never want you to hurt, and I try to stop it when I can, when I see them try to punish me or you. You're real aren't you? If I can keep you happy, it will be alright, and you'll be alright." 

"I don't - uh. I don't know what that means, Swan," he admitted, scratching behind his ear. Blinking out of her outburst, Emma sighed, kicking dirt with her bare toes. She nodded, looking downcast. 

"Have Lilly send for me as soon as she can."

The look of tired misery in eyes that matched the moss haunted him the entire way home, sitting on his shoulder and whispering strange thoughts into his brain. 


	14. xii

Milah finally passed on a cold January morning, Emma quietly packing up her herbs and vials as she took off her glasses. 

The three of them had grown close. Emma initially seemed off put by Milah, like someone caught where they shouldn't be. After her initial fear and Milah's reluctant acceptance, the two found a strange friendship in each other. Where that friendship ended, Killian and Emma's began. She was strange, an 'odd duck' as Liam had called her, but there was a part of her presence that made it seem like they knew each other, immediately making them old friends. She observed them with happiness, letting the couple regale her with stories when Milah felt up to it. 

The only occasion that she ever made him uncomfortable was when he asked about the cause of the mystery illness, and in conjunction, her parents. The village doctor was as perplexed about the mystery illness as Killian, bumbling with answers while staring at Cruella and Isaac. Cruella had tried to be chipper but it fell flat, and Isaac seemed both perplexed and pleased by every day Milah was better. 

Asking Emma about them made her have a visceral reaction, her fear coming to life. Although they had been her caretakers, it was clear that there was no love lost. 

"They are not, and never will be, my parents," Emma hissed at him. She had just made Milah comfortable in her cot, and was trying not to wake her. Milah's decline was giving Emma trouble, her muttering increased when she did spellwork and it did little, already leaving them all on edge. Killian threw up his hands in exasperation, stalking to his lonely bed. They had all spoken about the inevitable day that there would be nothing for Emma to do, but in the almost two years they had maintained this hidden healing, he had begun to hope.

Milah had not improved, though, her voice and demeanor changing more than seemed possible. It was exhausting to watch her fade, and she was exhausted by their fussing, her intonation becoming tinny, and features softening. Worst of all, she had written out instructions for him, instructions he hated - her wobbly hand still full of hard lines that complimented his own flowery script: "How to keep on living your life". 

She wrote dozens of letters to him, in different dated envelopes. Emma had organized everything to her exact specifications, making sure that Milah was taken care of and her wishes would be respected. When Emma was gone for the evening, either walked home by Lilly or Killian, Milah had commented to him more than once how grateful she was for this chance, and how lucky they were to have more time together. Emma had said something similar, but in her own odd way. 

"I am thankful for the chance to see what you were, especially for so long. How you felt. What she wanted." Emma glanced at Killian, and briskly bid him good night when he looked perplexed. 

When Milah had fallen asleep and not woken, Emma stayed with him, providing as much comfort as she could. She let him cry, didn't judge that he was weak for a man and a lord for loving his wife so much, didn't judge him for not having an heir or pressing Milah for children. She was different than the rest of the court, the rest of the village really, and never professed any sort of comments on his choices to forego the privileges of his title. Her help was invaluable as she laid out everything Milah had requested for her funerary details, allowing him to grieve. He bit back anger when she appeared to not come to the funeral, until he saw her much later after all of the mourners had left to the memorial party. Liam was the only one left with him, both of them standing in silence over the grave. He hadn't wanted to leave, couldn't stand the idea of more condolences, or a party of people who sang Milah's praises and her friendship when they were barely in her life at all. 

Instead of a black shroud and black muslin mourning garb, Emma wore Milah's favorite color of soft lavender, her shroud silvery. Walking toward them like a ghost herself, gliding through the other gravestones, she sprinkled seeds around the open grave and in it as they stood audience. With a wave of her hand, lavender sprouted, blowing in the breeze. Liam sputtered, going red faced at the far above improper use of magic on such a day, but Killian held him back. Emma clapped her hands free of dirt, standing to look at Killian from across the gap of earth that held his heart. He gave her a nod that she returned before she turned to keep walking, disappearing out the east gate of the graveyard. 

It was a blur after that, years passing as he adjusted to being alone. Emma stayed up in her far perch, and he threw himself into the library, opening Milah's letters when the occasion arose. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

_ Emma fell, and worlds fell with her, pieces like bright sparkles of broken glass; each blending together and blurring into new shapes that caught and reflected light.  _

_ He was the light, caught and reflected in every world before it broke, before they crashed and tumbled. Emma held these dreams of worlds never to be so gently, sometimes fleeing from him to save them from destruction, sometimes letting the light flourish until it cracked them into smithereens.  _

_ It never mattered what she chose. All that mattered was the light being real, him being real instead of Other. When they found each other, and they would always find each other, they would remember and they could get out together. They had to get away from the Other. _

_ The man in black rode across the desert on a black horse towards her tower, the spire's silhouette driving him on. He wore no red amulet, no red pendant, no red choker when he kissed her and demanded that they flee. Real. He was real.  _

_ He did not know of the dragon that guarded her and her cruel masters that ended his life. The world crumbled, and Emma chased the man in black as she fell.  _

_ He came to her cabin in a flower meadow, nails sharp on the wood, a red amulet on the fastener to close his collar. The Other. Emma fought, but it was so fast, coiled and ready to spring. Their meeting this time was brief, only a night together away from the Other. A blacksmith, his hands were rough in her own when he helped her down from her steed, cleaned and dressed her wound, gave her shelter, shared his meager dinner, and gave her a sword he'd made before she fled. When the Other caught her next she drew arms against it. The battle was brutal, the Other supernaturally strong in this place. Emma lost quickly but not before he was there and beside her. The Other dispatched her quickly, and the world was lost as she searched for him once more.  _

_ In a bag of down feathers where she had stowed away on his ship, he found her. He called himself pirate, but no actions could convince her that he was anything but good. He freed the poor and the enslaved, spitting on those who would enforce hatred. The Other had stolen from her, left her with no name, and no memories; she only knew that when she took his hand he was real. He called her Swan as he picked feathers from her person and off the deck for what felt like weeks, and they were together for years before they admitted feelings for one another. He tasted like lingonberry brandy, promised her the world, his own memories lost when the Other stole hers. He left her for what he promised would be just a moment. The Other returned, he did not. The jagged shards of that world hurt.  _

_ A minstrel forced to become a knight was the next time she found him, both remembering enough to know that they must find a way to stop falling, to end every world fracturing. She was a captured warrior, both of them consigned to a war they did not want to fight for kingdoms they held no loyalty to. Emma fled with him as he sang her songs, laughing at his attempted swaggering bravado. They argued about every subject he brought up, too stubborn to give in, still too much at war to find peace. In a heated match of yelling, he eventually kissed her silly just to prove a point. Emma drove him crazy, he said, challenging him more than any armies he had been forced to face. Sarcastically she snapped back that he 'must love it to continue on with her'. He whispered that she was correct at night when everything was calm; he loved it and her, her shrugged 'of course I am' in reply sending both of them into a fit of laughter. The neighboring kingdom ended them with arrows from afar, the Other smiling its crimson grin disguised as the queen.  _

_ The Other comes for her like a thief in the night, steals with wicked claws and a mad gleam in the eyes. With its thievery, it becomes harder to remember that she must find him. She has to, she has to find the real him, but the Other is everywhere Emma looks, seeking her out like the predator it is.  _

_ When Emma finds him again he is a King, dressed richly in velvet, and he has been punished by the Other in retaliation. It's a warning, a clear message that resistance has consequences that go beyond her own torture. The Other has given him horrors to relive, the loss of his family, of his betrothed, of his armies and good men. The crown sits heavy on his head, Emma only remembering when it is too late to ease his pain. She is a sorceress in his employ, remembering him as real when his eyes catch light that managed to peek through drawn curtained windows. There are many things the Other can take, but when she sees that look of loss resting behind that cold blue, it becomes clear there are things she must keep for herself: Find the real him. Never let the real him hurt. Get away from the Other.  _

_ Her touch is soft and gentle, apologetic. His touch is anxious, untrusting, not willing to care. There is so much she could have prevented if she had remembered. Here is not supposed to be about the outside or its pain; it's a mistake that's become a chance, a chance of what could be if only they were not what they were. This is the result of her playing savior and the unintended consequences of no good deed going unpunished, of falling for this plot laid by clever hands. Slowly, or what feels like slowly, he remembers himself. He relearns her, remembers how good their hands feel interlaced. They are together, they are remembering, they can get away from the Other together.  _

_ It takes too long. The Other strikes, but sends another player in this plot. Emma knows somehow deep in her gut : The Dragon is a friend. The Dragon is good she tries to explain, but then the Dragon is burning this world in an unexpected betrayal. The Dragon has betrayed her in the worst of ways - becoming her friend, gaining her trust, while all along the Dragon's people hoped for either freedom or revenge at Emma's expense. Either their prayers were answered forever, or at least they would be for a time, with the added revenge of taking her from the ones who consigned them to this fate.  _

_ Emma wonders what will happen when no one remembers; when no one can prevent the Other from keeping her empty and hollow. The Other wants her to be a husk, wants to keep her magic and nothing else. It suits its purpose, the Other is a demoness that twists herself or twists people's sight. She wears the colors black, white and red; the absence of color to remind her of the magic she uses to create illusions, all the colors in the spectrum remind her of her ability to bend her own image, the red is traditional and a reminder that it is the color of blood. She does not care how many Kits she skins to keep her own coat pristine. _

_ That's the secret, the Other's vetted interest in keeping Emma empty.  _

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Lilly was not someone who a person wanted to catch in a foul mood. Her temper was disastrous, fiery, and without end. It had earned her the title of 'Dragon Lady' among many of the villagers, although none were so brave as to say it in her presence. 

Killian had never seen her wrath, until she stalked into the library demanding to know what had happened. When he had pointed out that as far as he knew she had been gone for years, leaving Emma to fend for herself, Lilly had scoffed with frustration and pressed him harder. 

She would not take ‘nothing’ as an answer, forcing him to close the library early and march up the hill. Emma was pacing, her face tear stained as she muttered to herself. Killian could barely remember the last time he saw her, years ago when he had lost his hand most likely, when hallucinations had rampaged through his home. There was some surety that she had been there, but the memory felt wrong like all the memories surrounding the accident. The only thing that felt real about it was the ever present shooting pains of where his hand should be, now ending in a hook. 

"I can't calm her. I've tried everything, but she - she needs a familiar face. Please," implored Lilly, dragging him closer. "Please just talk to her. She thinks that you are friends, and I don't know what Isaac and Cruella did to her. I wasn't there this time, and she's really bad."

"We are friends, but I don't -" Killian began. At the sound of his voice, Emma stopped pacing and looked at him with a blank stare, her eyes dulled, vacant. "Bloody hell, what did they do to her? Emma," he approached her warily, snapping his fingers on his one hand to get her attention. "Emma, love, what's all this?" 

"K-Killian? Are you real?" Emma whispered shakily. "Please, please tell me you are real. Please, please, be real. I don't know where I am, or who I am, or why the time is wrong, I don't -" She took a wobbling step towards him, and he caught her, letting her cry in heaving sobs. Glancing up at Lilly, she shrugged as Emma continued to seek comfort. 

"Real? I think I am real?" he whispered. Emma nodded in his arms, her face gaunt with deep bags under her eyes. 

"Real. You are real, I can tell, and you're not a fake like you have been before. We mustn't tell, please, they'll make me forget and take from me. All they do is take. Lilly, you take, but never as much, and I'm so tired. It keeps happening, over and over and over again, but I need to find you. I look for the real you but they find me, they find us, and every time things get more jumbled. I can't keep shadows alive without knowing them, I'm not supposed to be here, the happiness is wrong. I have to find the real you and we have to go. I - I can't -"

"Hush now," Killian soothed. "It's going to be alright, Swan."

"We have to escape, okay? Please help me escape. We need to get out -"

"I can stay here, or help you take care of her, Lilly. If she's too much, or like this," Killian offered, stroking Emma's hair gently. She sighed, quieting against him. "She helped me with… with Milah. If she needs peace, I will hold her in it."

Lilly raised one arched brow in surprise. "Are you sure, Jones? She's… She can be a handful. You'll also have to steer clear of Isaac and Cruella. They want to take away this unpleasant behavior - they believe she should be a demure and docile little church mouse. Only happy thoughts."

"I'm sure. Milah would have wanted it that way." Killian stood with Emma cradled in his arms, helping Lilly put Emma to bed. She was exhausted, falling asleep as if she was sick with fever or very weak from strain, though Lilly refused to answer how she could have driven herself to such a state. Asleep, Emma looked at peace, the strange attack quieted. He looked around her bedroom noting that it was bare, but the front room sprawled with portraits of villagers, scenery, and strangers. Had Emma helped someone and taken in some sort of hex? Concerned, Killian returned home and poured himself a large helping of rum before rereading one of the many notes left by Milah. 

_ "Consider it." _

He traced the words in Milah's inky scratch before putting the note away. In the quiet, he did as she asked. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Taking Emma to the library while he worked was an effective way to give Lilly a break, and Emma seemed calmed by the endless tomes he asked her to organize. With a bonnet on over her hair and a proper cloak of navy blue or taupe, she was hidden in plain sight. 

Killian had read the books in the library thrice over, but found that reading them to her was its own sort of activity. Milah had never cared for free-form poetry or the long dead history of past kingdoms, but Emma’s curiosity was voracious. She challenged him intellectually and was masterful about it, evenly debating philosophical questions or systems of government. 

She surprised him by deciphering Greek to learn it herself, their conversation on languages revealing that they covered each other in what the other did not know. She still had moments of madness, but pulled herself together with gentle breathing as Killian studied her intently. 

"It's you. It's really you. It's you, it's you and you are real, not a shadow, not her not her not her not her - real. You're real. Not my Killian, but real," Emma would whisper, holding herself tightly as she tried to make herself as small as possible. Killian found putting her in a quiet place, holding her hand, or sitting next to her while she rocked herself gently helped. She was genuinely embarrassed afterwards, but he couldn't hold it against her. It wasn't her fault. He could always find her to bring her back, even on her worst days; although there had begun to be an uptick in the amount of those. 

"You've never had an episode this bad before," Killian sighed, his heart dropping when she glared at him and smacked his hand away. "Usually, you come back pretty quickly. I don't know that you do it to calm yourself, but you usually paint -" 

"I paint?" Emma asked, sounding distracted. She mulled the idea. "August will be so proud of me. I was far more talented in music."

"You've painted for years, besides being our herbalist. You're very good." He glanced back to see her glare softening. 

" _ I _ don't paint,  _ you _ do. Wait - What do you mean, 'our herbalist'?" Emma asked, sharp irritation quick in her tone. 

"The village, love. The village surrounding The Blackwater. It's alright, you have these attacks where you forget -" 

"No. I don't," she snapped in frustration, trying to push past him. 

"Emma, hey, I didn't mean to upset you -" 

"Where is this cabin?" she interrupted with a rasp. "Hopefully that is real." 

"Swan, it's alright." Killian had approached her slowly, as if she was a frightened animal. Emma shrunk away from him, and maybe she was one at this point, the pleading way she looked at him so full of fear, as if she didn't know him. 

"Your hand, you have a hand! I know you, please, and I am a princess. Think about it, years have gone by but nothing has changed and things are too vague, try to remember exact dates - What did they do to us - Oh Gods where are we? Killian, what day is it?" Emma looked petrified, her breathing becoming rapid and her face going pale. He looked at his hook in confusion, its sudden shooting pain as if on cue. The accident was village news. How had she forgotten? 

"Emma -" 

"You don't understand, you can't understand, you're not you! You don't have a hook, OK, and none of this," Emma gestured wildly, her voice a shrill panicked whisper. "None of it is real! This shouldn't be happening, because it can't have happened. It's - I - Elsa is dead, Olaf is dead, Nemo is dead, Liam is dead - I didn't meet anyone but Elsa, Anna, and Ingrid. This - I wasn't there to meet Nemo. If anyone comes to you with a red necklace or white in their hair that shouldn't be there, they are not real, and do not trust them. Please, please I - "

"Emma, that is quite enough. No one is dead." Killian hissed. Emma looked at him with wide eyes, and he swallowed his anger as quickly as it had come. 

She sat down and began to cry, Killian moving to shield her from any onlookers. "Swan, take a breath. You have to calm down or you'll get us in trouble. Please. I promise you that we'll leave and go back to the cabin, or stay here and I'll get you some tea, and everything will be fine, yeah love?" 

Emma nodded, only slightly pulling away when he wiped the tears away from her face. 

"But you have to calm down. You trust me, and I trust you, we're friends. Very good friends, even, since we were young. Please, Swan." Killian extended his hand, her reluctant hand in his own a moment later. She calmed around him, and fell back softly into daydreaming when the episode had passed. 

The children of the village loved her, whether she was inside the library or out on a gingham blanket in the grass. Emma read to them in different voices, weaving compelling tales while they made her crowns of flowers. He had sketched her once or twice like that, Lilly framing one of the charcoal pictures in Emma's little cottage. 

"The Darkness may destroy my body, but it can't touch my heart," she read, children sitting up in anticipation. The words made him shudder for some reason, as if an icy finger trailed down his spine. "That's the end of this chapter. I'll read you more adventures tomorrow, I promise."

When the crowd of children dispersed, he handed Emma an apple, both of them lazing under a cherry tree. Since coming down to the library with him, their occasional suppers, or their quiet strolls in the woods to forage for herbs, her face had filled back out where it was once hollowed, and she had gained color back in her cheeks. Her laughter came easier as well, something that made him feel… 

_ "Consider it."  _

"Swan?" he asked carefully. Her smile was shy and slow, a glance up through honeyed lashes. "Would you - if I offered - is there something you want to do, or place you want to go, that you can't?" 

"The market and the beach," she sighed dreamily. "They're my favorite places besides here. Before this, they tried to keep us apart, you know. You don't remember scaling a tower, fighting a dragon for me, riding across the desert on horseback, making me a sword, or being a pirate who discovered me. When you were really you, you would find me again and again. You took me so many beautiful places. I wish you could remember, we had so many wonderful moments. You're the constant, no matter how much I forget, you're the constant in those lovely memories. They were good, and you were good to me. Happy dreams. We have happy dreams, until we find one another, and then we must fly home - " 

"Emma, that wasn't real. Today's been rough on you but you need to remember some of that isn't real. This is, no towers, or things like that. We  _ are _ home. Alright? I can do the beach, but the market is tricky. We'll have to wait on that. The beach we can even do today." Emma beamed at him, and he had to clear his throat, air sticking in his lungs as his heart hiccuped in his chest. "Why don't we get you to the cabin, and I'll get us supper while you do some painting, then we can walk on the beach afterwards."

"That sounds lovely. Can I do magic here, to get us there?" 

He looked at her with a frown, nodding. She knew there was magic here, but it was rarely used, a taboo. Not that it had stopped her before or on occasion his own occasional use in the library or to help quicken tedious chores. "It's just you and I, so I suppose… Yes?"

Excitedly she rubbed her palms together, trying to work something into being. Nothing happened. She frowned deeply, looking at them with frustration. 

He flicked his wrist to bring them to the cabin, Emma's landing off balance as she braced herself on his chest. She shouted a curse, and he laughed to himself watching her. When she glared, he shrugged. 

"At least you remember to be dignified." 

"Shut up! Gods, I don't know which one of you is worse!" She threw a nearby paintbrush at him, which he blocked with his hook. 

"You're sounding like yourself again. Throwing things at me too." Emma didn't respond, thumbing through her canvases. "What are you hungry for? The tomatoes, onions, garlic, and basil will make a good pasta dish… " 

Emma nodded absently as she stared at her canvases, pulling some from the bunch. A brunette who smiled widely with her ashen blonde partner called "A King and Queen" dancing together; a close up of an intense woman in a red cloak, entitled "Ruby"; a swan gliding on the stars in the sky, a hook underneath reaching from where no stars touched. It was a newer piece, and Killian stepped by her side to see the name, watching her furrowed brows. The bottom of the painting had her scribbled signature and the words 'remember the Darkness'. 

He shivered, and looked back to Emma, her face pensive before she turned away. Starting the stove pot and simmering the sauce in a pan, they set about the somewhat normal routine. Sweeping out their tracks and putting their shoes aside by the door, he opened windows to let in the last rays of sunshine and fetched a few pails of water for her water tank and basins. When that was done, he poured Emma and himself each a glass, sitting down next to her with their plates. 

They walked along the beach at dusk, at ease in each other's company. She had calmed after eating, going quiet and airily replying to his questions. She seemed to be a bit sharper when they did dishes, coming back to herself as she usually did. Killian had begun to notice a cycle or pattern in her madness that he had noted, though he would never admit to keeping track of her or their own goings on, even if they were the highlight of his day. Being with her felt like nothing else mattered, as if this was the only thing that was important in his life. The rest of the world seemed without vibrance. They swam together as darkness fell, circling each other in the water. 

Shivering in the cold air, Emma wrapped herself in a towel, watching him. 

"Did you overexert yourself, love?" he teased gently as he joined her. Emma frowned, deep in thought. "Swan?" 

"I don't know how to be around you like this," she whispered softly, drawing swirls in the wet sand. Waves lapped lazily on the shore, wispy clouds framing the night and bright moon. 

"I don't understand -" 

"I know. I know you don't understand. And that's - you're not supposed to be like this. None of this is supposed to be like this, alright? I know parts of this are real, the memories are different, they're off. Over and over and over again, we find each other, but you don't remember or I don't, or we both remember only pieces. The one constant, is you. This you. You're not who I know you to be. I wish you were, because I'm getting weaker, I'm forgetting and mixing everything up, and I don't want to…" She trailed off, burying her head in her hands. 

Silence sat heavily for a period of several minutes. 

"So," he said simply, stretching. There was nothing else he could find to say. 

"So," she answered back in a sad whisper. Turning to look at him, her eyes were tired. "What, um. Our relationship or familiarity with each other here. Are we… Is there something…? In the other times where you found me, sometimes there was, but you and I never had this much of a history." 

"No. Sometimes I think that maybe, but -" Emma's eyes widened, a blush staining her cheeks. He felt his own ears heat. "No, although I -" He swallowed thickly. "I mean, we have known each other since childhood. You just, you have this grace about you, and it made you seem different, so I've always - I mean my family has said that you are never going to get better in your madness, and they think that you are a witch, but I think you're wonderful - er, I think they just don't know you…" He trailed off, looking down. 

"We've known each other for how long?" she whispered, sounding confused. 

"Since we were children. After Mum had gotten sick, Isaac found you on the beach, your head bleeding. When we were kids, your incidents were nowhere near this bad. They only became a problem once Liam got engaged to Elsa. At their party you sort of… lost it." He scratched behind his ear, and looked embarrassed. "That's why Lilly takes care of you up here, for your father, Isaac."

Emma's eyes narrowed dangerously. "That man is not my father," she growled. 

"Alright, your guardian then. After Milah passed, with your help getting her those medications, I came up to see you. Do you remember the library? I've been taking you there, and I thought maybe it would help."

"That childhood? None of that… I remember bits of it but it's like you changed the speed, made it go faster somehow. I remember it stopping at a dance and at Liam's wedding… I think he and Elsa stand out clearer because I have seen them or know how they act. It connects to your memory better." Emma made her fingers intertwine, looking at him expectantly. 

He shook his head sadly and her face fell. "I don't know what you mean by any of that, Emma." 

"It's like, it's as if there are two sets of memories in my head, and this one hurts me to believe so much, like I'm being drained." Emma pushed on her temples. "There's that and this dull hot ache, like I've been bruised inside and out, but worse. I just feel so wrong."

"I'm so sorry, love. I wanted you to be happy, maybe it's better if we stop taking you anywhere -"

"Killian, this is so confusing - it's not your fault. I know I - I wanted to go. Wanted to be with you for the day, trusted you, felt safe with you…" She let out a tired sigh that turned into a yawn. 

"If it makes you feel better, I still do. It's like you're a lighthouse and I'm just trying to find you while you do the same, but I keep turning the wrong way. You're supposed to be different and sometimes you aren't you, but you are an imposter with the red pendant. I don't want you to be different, or wrong, or fake, because I like you like this. I have to find you, keep you from hurting, and get out of this place. I don't want to lose you, the real you, because you and I are..." She paused, searching for words. "We're close. I think. I feel like it's a bad idea to be with you in any sort of - in a relationship outside of - "

"Ah. I see," he said, and with difficulty tried to hide his disappointment. 

Emma let out a snort, her smile retreating just slightly. "It's hard to tell, my feelings for you are so strange. I can hear myself, I can feel the sense of wrong, how pervasive it is. Whatever it is we're supposed to do is going to hurt both of us, and I know that. I don't want to hurt. Even more strongly, I don't want you to hurt." She frowned, staring up at him, tracing his brows, then his jaw. "I sound crazy, I feel crazy. I feel so much and there's more, I wish I could remember. I want to tell you I'll get better, but I feel like I am getting worse -" 

Killian gathered her closer, feeling her shoulders loosen. "You're not crazy. I promise you that I will never think of you as crazy."

"Yes, a totally sane person hearing angry whispers in her head, that's what I am. The worst part is knowing how awful this belief is. You are so hateful in these memories, so… caustic. And yet I feel sympathetic because you've lost the ability to love, and you are so angry that you’re blinding yourself. There's another thing that's part of you and it's driving you mad, but it's not like this. The thing is evil, just evil, but if I remember I get so scared - stop, stop -" Pausing Emma jolted, falling back out of his embrace as she pushed roughly on her temples, taking deep breaths.

"I'm sorry that I can't help you," he whispered gently, adjusting her blanket. Emma pulled away emphatically, looking at his outstretched hand as if it was a snake. 

"Like this, I don't know how to -" She threw up her hands in frustration, then turning to him with angry tears in her eyes. "You aren't supposed to be nice. You don't like me. You tolerate me most days. Wait - No. No that's changed, sometimes I… Sometimes I think that we could be something more if things were different. Sometimes you are kind." 

"Emma, I don't hate you," he started, but she stood abruptly and began pacing. He hadn't noticed before how her dress clung to her figure, her hair drying in soft waves. How could she think that he possibly disliked her? If she knew how he actually felt, she would know that it was the direct opposite. "I don't think I could hate you -" 

"No! You do, yes you do. You hate me so much. Or, you used to, but part of you does and always will want me gone. We have this bungled friendship or partnership of convenience and comfort and shared fears and feelings and sadness. You don't show kindness like this. You show it by making sure I have an extra blanket, the bigger portion, the safer place to rest. It's not like this, it has rarely been like this; the Darkness won't let it be like this. We have to-"

"Emma, you should sit down." Killian stood, covering her shoulders with the blanket she'd discarded. "You're going to freeze."

She blinked, slowly, looking up at him. "The Darkness. That's it! It's not here, so this is… If you're real, this is… that's impossible… " Very slowly, Emma reached to touch his face, skimming the scar on his cheek with quiet reverence. Killian felt frozen as she approached further, close enough that she had to hear his heart beating out of control.

"Are you alright, darling?" He breathed out slowly, watching her face turn from concern to wonder. 

"I - Yes. I'm - I just - I just had a moment and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, I am so sorry. Please forgive me for my outburst." 

"Hey now, love - No need for apologies. If you get confused, or lost, I'm here for you. I'll find you."

"You'll help me get back? Even if it hurts?" Emma whispered, searching his face. 

"Aye. I'll help you get back." Emma laid her head on his chest, and he gingerly brought his arms up to hold her. Her voice was muffled as she lay against him. 

"Promise me." 

"I promise."

"Thank you," she whispered, finally pulling away from him.

They made their way up to her cabin, Killian helping her stoke a fire. A downpour was brewing, its thick clouds whipping across the bay to hit the cliffside with angry fists. 

"Stay here tonight. You… You told me once that you hate thunderstorms. I don't know if that has changed, if this you does or not, but…" Emma didn't as much as ask, as she stated it, half asleep in his arms by the fire. "Please."

At her exhausted gaze, he smiled sadly. “I'll stay, I always stay."

"Even if I don't remember you at all, please don't go," Emma whispered, and he nodded. 

Killian felt his own relief. It was true about having never liked storms, a vague idea of why escaping him. He nodded, yawning slightly. She yawned louder in turn, both of them exhausted as they closed the windows and put out the lamps. 

"Killian, remember your promise," Emma mumbled, as they crawled into her bed under the thick quilt. He hummed, thunder rattling the small cabin, both of them safe in each other's embrace. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

_ "Guide her through - Lilly, do you realize what you're asking me to do? What that would mean for her if I have to take her through that? I have no idea how to get her back - "  _

** _HAVE THE DRAGON TAKE THE SHARD. _ **

_ A great beast roars, his head exploding in pain. He has to focus, focus on Lilly, focus through it and do not give in to what it demands.  _

** _LEAVE HER, GET THE SHARD AND LEAVE. _ **

_ "There's no other way. Emma knows but says she can't do it on her own. I've tried to help her the best I can but they're going to get suspicious if I don't play my part. I have no idea how to tell them that she's pulling me back in at random." _

_ "So you'll just be there, while they -"  _

_ "It's not ideal but neither is what's going to happen when you suddenly appear. At least this way it makes some sense. We're both frequent with our interactions, it is completely plausible that she would pull us into her worlds. You're closer to her and will have a better chance of getting to her." _

_ Fire rages as the thing breaks him, takes his insides and rips them to shreds, screams its threats. Killian grunts in pain, looking back to the dais where Emma rests, paler than ever. Her lips have become tinged with the color of bruises. The demon is too loud, they have to hurry. He has to cleave it away from his bones to save her.  _

** _I AM NOT JUST A PART OF YOU. _ **

** _YOU KNOW WHAT YOU PROMISED - - - AND WHAT YOU SIGNED AWAY. _ **

** _DO AS I COMMAND._ **

_ "And you'll run interference?" Killian manages to groan. The monster wants control of his hands; they shake as he lays next to Emma.  _

** _VESSEL! FOOLISH, OBSTINATE, IDIOTIC, COWARDLY MAN! WHAT COULD EVER CARE FOR YOU BUT ME, YOUR MAKER AND MASTER? OBEY! _ **

_ "As best as I can. My mother is beginning to see her mistake. It's not much, but it's more than I've ever gotten. If you forget, or back away, I'll be there to push you toward her again." _

** _HOW _ ** ** _DARE_ ** ** _ YOU DEFY ME? I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER, I WILL BURN YOU FROM THE INSIDE OUT! _ **

** _I WILL MAKE HER SUFFER, JUST WAIT, JUST YOU WAIT, YOU SLUG… _ **

_ The goblet does not spill as much as his hands tremble. It tries to make him gag, tries to turn his stomach, but the draught is like water and without taste. It works almost instantly, goblet falling away as he settles. Every muscle tenses; it tries to keep him awake and despite every attempt it is failing. Sleeping means it loses, and it shrieks at the thought of defeat.  _

** _YOU GO TO YOUR DOOM. _ **

** _EVEN IF YOU COULD HELP HER, SHE WILL NEVER CARE FOR YOU! _ **

_ "Good," he replies to its fear, and forces himself to fall asleep.  _

  
  



	15. xiii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters at once!? I know I'm crap at updating, so here's another chapter to hopefully make y'all forgive me. <3

Waking up next to her should have embarrassed him, should have absolutely mortified both of them from the impropriety of the action, even clothed. It felt right, though, or even safe, but it was another strange magic that he didn't want to ask about. There had been a moment of uncertainty when she woke up, her eyes alert immediately as she looked at him, then relief until he whispered a rough good morning. Panic had set in, and her eyes screwed shut as she tensed, whispering to herself. Not knowing what to do, he rose to leave, only to have her grip his wrist.

Her eyes were wide, but the fear was easing. "No. I just, I just need a moment. I thought it was real. Sometimes you feel so right, and I forget where we are. Wait, have you and I… We haven't been intimate, have we?" Her voice raised in its pitch, and Killian choked out a cough. His face burned and he would not look anywhere but the ceiling. 

"No!" Emma blushed as well, and he looked at her shyly for just a moment before looking at his feet. “No. Nothing like that. You just sleep better next to me, and I… I sleep better too.” 

"Oh. That's… Thank you for doing this, then. I feel tired to my bones. It never stops, this exhaustion."

"What could I do to make it easier for you?" he whispered, and she laughed, closing her eyes to pinch at the bridge of her nose. "Emma?" 

"It's just - I don't know how to deal with this, with you, this early. You're so kind, so nice! And it makes me feel…" Her eyes opened in irritation, hand touching his cheek as something lurked just below the surface, hiding what she wasn't saying. Gently letting her fingers trace through his stubble, she searched his face. 

Leaning closer, he pressed a kiss to her palm, whispering to her contentedly. "Makes you feel what exactly?" 

"We could have been -" 

Lilly rapped at the door frame, completely nonplussed by his presence in Emma's bed, or their current closeness. 

"Isaac and Cruella ask of you tomorrow," she drawled, before picking at a long fingernail. "You'll need your strength, and to be ready. I couldn't persuade them, and I'm sorry."

Emma was up in an instant, pleading with her friend. "Please Lilly. You told me we were friends, I can't keep doing this. Last time made me forget, and I -" Killian could barely hear as they walked to the small bunk Lilly kept. She didn't sleep in the house, which Killian found strange, but Lilly herself was strange. She had appeared shortly after Emma, but had always been Emma's shadow and caretaker. It was just normal, along with her disappearing for months, sometimes years. Standing, he crept to the door frame, straining to hear.

Emma called for him, told him to let himself out and she would meet him at the library. Not willing to miss this chance, he waited instead, listening to the women argue. 

"I don't know either, but Cruella is demanding another session," Lilly was hissing. "You still have to fulfill your promises, and yeah, I do regret this, Emma. But what choices do I have? Neither of you are exactly the picture of suffering!" 

"We are! This isn't real, and I can't stand the thought of what will happen when it's over. I made a promise, but it wasn't for this. It never included -" 

"Oh boo hoo, he's happy. He's not a villain. You get to live ages together. Is that really what you want me to bemoan with you? Complaining that you are both content?" Lilly's voice was raised, anger lacing each word. "And you, you are the one spending time with him! If you are that scared, stay away from him and make it clear that you aren't -" 

"That's not fair," Emma's voice wavered. "You know that's not fair. This is not a reward fitting the consequences - "

"It’s not? Or is it because you are scared you feel something for him?" Lilly wasn't visible, but he could hear the triumph in her tone. 

"I - This isn't him. It's confusing, and I hate it. I don't know if this is some trick, or -" 

"Oh Emma," Lilly laughed darkly. "Do you think that any of us have that much control? It's his memories, or his thoughts, because you're giving him power here. It's whatever he is underneath, mixed up with anything you added. Your memories and his are one giant pool, and you're just going to have to wait it out. This is on you. You helped sustain his memory of whatever her name was for far longer than - "

"Milah. Her name was Milah," Emma snarled. "This is the furthest we've ever gotten, because we keep finding each other - and whenever we do, everything falls apart. I am getting weaker every iteration. I can't keep giving you my power and sustaining this without completely losing myself - then who will bring him back? Who will bring me back?"

"I won't let them do that, Emma, I will protect -" 

"Could you honestly stop them? If the answer is no just stop. Lilly, I'm scared."

Killian listened, confused but with a strange feeling of expectation as he tried to understand the vague feeling of anger he held. He shifted, able to peek around the corner without being seen. 

"Then tell them that! Tell them you refuse sessions until you've had time to rest."

"I have. I know I have. I never should have brokered this deal, it felt off. Killian was the reason I said yes to it, and even he was acting bizarre. I know you wanted to think it was you, but he was the tipping point."

Lilly looked at her oddly, her face paling. "How was he acting bizarre? When did you talk about it?" 

"He was - he brought it up that I should take the deal. I asked and he said you had told him, but he was just, his mannerisms were so strange. He acted like -" 

"Like Cruella?" Lilly asked, her voice going low, and serious. "Emma, I didn't tell Killian anything. He came to me and said he was drugged, darted with kraken's ink and a potent dose of belladonna. If he wasn't the Dark One he would have  _ died _ ." 

Killian felt like he'd been dipped in cold water at the mention of a darkness, his spine turning to a column of ice. The feeling passed as quickly as it came. 

"Instead, he said he woke up to find out that you went under. He was furious, said that he should have protected you, and I begged him to take the draught to reach you in sleep like I had. He did after yelling at me for being an idiot, and now he's here. He has never known what is happening with my people or me, never agreed to let you do this. If these aren't your memories -" 

"They're his. That's the only explanation. I wouldn't be surprised if some of yours are mixed up in these too, but I can't remember a lot that came before any longer."

Lilly shifted nervously, grimacing. "I guessed as much, but this is insane - What are you going to do? Being in his head with the Darkness - If you really are forgetting more each time, or all of it, how do we know this is really him, or if the Darkness can get to you or - "

"I'm going to tell him everything. He's real. I trust him." Emma said firmly, taking a few steps towards his location. "I'm absolutely sure the Darkness isn't here. It's just him." He froze, but Lilly stood, shaking her head with a small smile. 

"'Just him'." Lilly laughed. "You don't just trust him, you love -" 

"I know. I know Lilly. Gods help me should I ever escape, he will never feel the same," Emma muttered, her blushing face making the green in her eyes so bright when they met his as he stood from his hiding spot. 

Stepping out of her room, he ignored her sputtering protests and roughly brought her lips to his. She melted into the kiss, hands going from fluttering in surprise to gripping his shoulders to pull him closer, his tongue chasing hers tentatively. 

Lily groaned, throwing her hands up. "Gross," she muttered, and sat in a dining chair with a huff. 

"Well, hi," Emma sighed out, murmuring against his lips. His forehead touched hers, and she smiled up at him radiantly. 

"Good morning." 

"I have wanted that for so many, many mornings, so yes. It is a good morning at last," Emma whispered, her fingers holding tightly just below the hair at the nape of his neck, their next kiss broken by Lilly's loud throat clearing. 

"I don't know which I like worse, you pining after each other or you pawing at each other. Just mate and be done with it, Fiore I beg thee," Lilly groaned. Emma giggled lightly and Lilly grumbled as she made her way out the door. "I'll be back in one hour to plan. Get your fill of face sucking until I return. If you forget after Cruella makes her move, it's likely going to take a while before it happens again."

"Lilly?" Emma called after her friend. 

"Yeah?" 

"Thank you for looking after us. If I forget again, remember how happy I am that you are watching out for me," Emma said with sincerity. Killian felt a twinge of anger he could not explain, an itch at the back of his mind that tried to move forward. 

Lilly looked sad, but blushed bashfully. "Don't thank me, Emma. Besides, what are friends for?"

She left, lingering in the doorway for just a moment while Emma tightly hugged him, before shutting the door quietly behind her. Killian had the vague memory of a dragon burning down a castle, Emma calling the dragon a traitor as it flew, asking it why, begging it to stop while using its name - Lilly. 

The thought never passed his lips, Emma sending him to the floor to press herself against him. 

"I've wanted to kiss you again so badly here, so many times when you told me that the lives we were together in weren't real -" 

"Emma," He pulled away abruptly, concerned. "I understand that both you and Lilly buy into this idea that we all are cursed, but I need you to understand that a future together means letting that go."

"But - you don't believe me? Please, I'm not crazy, I -" 

Killian shook his head, gently smoothing her curls. "No one said anything about you being crazy, love. Please, just listen."

"You are accusing me of imagining this then, that's it? And Lilly's just what, tolerating me or placating me?" Emma looked at him with clear upset, pulling off of him and back to sit on her heels. "Don't be  _ pedestrian _ -" 

"I need you to hear me out, please." Sitting up, he grabbed for her hands with his own, his hook against her thigh. Her distrusting look of appraisal did not send him comfort. "Milah wrote me letters, she said she saw the way you looked at me and how I looked at you, but she wanted you to be better. She thought both of us deserved a chance where you were healthy of mind."

"I wish you had just remembered." Emma pulled her hands from him, rising to her feet. Killian reached for her, but she shook her head and turned away from him. "You never trust me, or yourself. Don't you feel any sense of this being wrong? Please, Killian."

"If I humor you, will you please consider treatment of some sort? It pains me to see you go into fits, even if it brought you to feel something for me. I don't want to take advantage of that."

"Fine, you want to humor me? How big is this island?" Emma stood, glaring at him with her eyes narrowed. Fire flashed behind the green of her pupils. "Why have your brother and Elsa only shown up when you think they should? And Olaf, that sweet boy, why has he disappeared? Why can't you remember why you have a hook for a hand, or why your father and Nemo have gone without a trace, or even how old you are or what day it is?"

"I - That's - That's preposterous, and insulting to my family -" He stood, shaking his head. 

The island was large but had strange terrain, that was true. The Blackwater was rocky cliffs, pine forest, and dark ocean with stone buildings. The Baelfire was shrubby inland swamp and bog with beautiful flower fields. The beach and town were peaceful sandy coves that lead up to apple orchards and pumpkins, all within at most a half hour’s walk in any direction... Why did he not remember the cartography? He was raised to be in the navy, as Liam was, he should be able to say with certainty. And yes, his brother. Liam and Elsa had taken over the Blackwater when Father had gone. Nemo and Father did not check in with him, they were grown men who were probably sailing the warmer coasts. Olaf had to have gone to some school or back to Elsa's kingdom, that was easy enough. 

His hook caught the light, and he tried to make out the memory of why it shot pain through him. A shard of something had pierced him, but the memory being foggy was just a side effect. As for his age, he'd stopped caring to count, and as for the day, it was a Saturday because the library opened whenever he felt like it. The library opened whenever he felt like it, but later than usual on Saturday's, and rarely on Sunday's. The pervasive feelings of something not being right or wrongness in some thoughts or feelings regarding memory was just her casting doubt. 

"I knew Elsa when she was alive. I know of Liam, from her, from my home, and you. I tried to keep Milah alive for as long as I could. Please, just listen."

"Don't you dare twist her death," he hissed, pointing a finger at her, and advancing slightly. Not Milah. Emma couldn't - 

"I'm not twisting anything, Killian. I hated every minute of not being able to keep your memory of her alive. I tried so hard, and it took so much magic just - " 

He moved toward the door, now furious himself. "Enough."

Emma blocked his exit, grabbing him roughly to turn him as they moved outside. "Why won't you just believe me? Why can't you trust me, this one time without me being pulled apart to prove it to you? Why can't you just trust yourself enough to know that this is all wrong? You  _ promised _ me!" Emma screamed at him. 

"I thought I could handle this, and I was wrong. If I'm tied into your madness, I refuse to play into it like Lilly does. I can't, I can't do it, and this is why. I'm sorry, Emma." He pushed past, and he heard her frustrated cry as she sat on the stairs leading to the cottage. 

He would swear that he heard her say something else as he left, words swallowed by the trees and his own anger. 

"I'm so tired of hearing you apologize to me, Killian."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

A day passed by, and Killian steadfastly held onto his anger with Emma despite the nagging voice of reason that tried to corrode his stubbornness. Three parts of his whole argued cyclically : If (A very small if, at that) Emma was mad, he had still promised to help and support her, but had instead acted in anger over something she conceivably couldn't help. If she wasn't mad (a large if), it could be that she brought up his family to push him out of anger, some sort of resentment for her own situation with her orphan past and adoptive family, meaning he had every right to be angry despite her clear emotional distress. If she wasn't mad, and somehow what she was saying was all true about past lives, living ghosts, and false memories (the largest if, by far), he had presumably left her before and she was terrified of the consequences of that abandonment. 

It's easier to fight with himself when he's opening the dusty bottle of rum, ignored since Emma had eclipsed his lonely routines. 

_ "Emma! Please love, answer me, I remember and I am sorry -"  _

_ Red claws raised, the woman who is not a woman lets Emma crumple at her feet, Isaac and Lilly watching dispassionately from their mounts.  _

_ "Too late puppy," she giggles.  _

_ He isn't graceful when he throws Emma over his shoulders, running into the woods away from the laughing false queen as she blows her horn. A fox calling a human hunt, his memory laughs at an unamusing joke at their expense. Killian tries to hide them, tries his hardest to nestle them in the gnarled roots of a creek bank. Emma blinks awake, looking at him as a stranger while he begs her to be quiet. When she says his name again, it's with a veneer of defeat.  _

_ "It's alright Killian. You won't remember dying here, and it doesn't hurt for long." Her hand tries in a feeble attempt to staunch the bleeding, face going paler as seconds fly by. "A little pain, then it's like falling asleep." _

_ The black and white dogs - no not dogs, foxes - find them with ease. Killian pulls her from hiding to run, and Emma obliges even in her injured exhaustion. They duck behind trees and bushes, hooves growing louder by the second. Emma is calm, her face set in marble, completely impassive unlike he's ever seen her. This is his fault.  _

_ "I'm so sorry I left you alone, I didn't -" he tries, but she stops him with a slow shake of her head. She takes his hand as hoofbeats shake the ground. They're going to die, they are going to be killed - no. They're going to be separated, this is what happens when they are taken away from the other, violence to make it easier to rip them apart.  _

_ "I'm so tired of hearing you apologize to me, Killian," she whispers, stumbling slightly. The arrows in her back don't feel real, but nothing does because it  _ ** _isn't_ ** _ , and the next volley that hits him hurts for just a moment, before he's waking up to Liam saying someone's washed ashore. The nightmare forgotten in a child's curiosity, lost within another dream.  _

His head pounded as he woke from too much drink, groaning at the feeling of being so hungover. He couldn't focus, even as his hands pressed into his eyes to abate the throb of his skull. His hand throbbed too, the cut pulsing and angry. 

Pulling his hands back slowly in confusion, he looked hard at the gash that halved his palm, the way his fingers have stiffened into a claw like hook, the swollen flesh red and angry. Blinking, he stared in disbelief, until the illusion disappeared before his very eyes and the silver metal of his hook lay heavy on his knee. It shot a not so phantom pain through his arm, and Killian felt ill.

From his home it is a ten minute sprint to the Blackwater, the doors pushed wide open into the courtyard that is being reclaimed by evergreen and moss. It smells like rain, clouds thick in the sky, making it look like a blanket of eggshell and gray set out to block the sun. Liam shouted after him when he ran past, greeting him in confusion while Killian searched for the room he knows he does not remember. 

Is a room still a room if it isn't remembered? If a tree falls in it and no one is there to hear, does it still exist? 

The door handle was an elegant french curve, but was placed high on the door at just below his chest level, his stomach turning at the memory brought back to this place. He hadn't opened the door since he was twelve, his height not catching up with him until later. The handle was where he would have remembered reaching for it, remembering opening it to see his pale mother waste away in her quiet room until the day she wore her death shroud. 

Liam called down the corridor, but Killian pushed the door open regardless, its blurred images and blank areas making bile rise in his throat. The bed was clearly defined, its canopy like a mouth and where Killian had always looked first no matter what. Nothing else in the room could draw his eye from his mother in her pink velvet bed with its many tassels and golden pull cord. The pull cord appeared, falling down from the ceiling to the bedside, his sudden memory of it bringing it into the tableau. Liam reached from behind him and sighed, closing the door. 

"Don't do that to yourself little brother," Liam said, solemnly. "Leave her room closed, there's nothing but bad memories of her in there." 

Killian couldn't help the insane bubble of laughter that burst from his mouth at the word 'memories', leaving a stunned and purpling Liam behind as he ran from the Blackwater to Emma's cabin. It took ten minutes to get there, and he panted out laughter at the absurdity of the truths Emma had laid out, calling her name. She didn't answer, leaving him to look for her behind her cottage, the beach down the trail, or anywhere else she preferred to go when she needed quiet. It was as if she had disappeared into thin air. A storm was rolling in, his nerves less important than finding Emma. He looped around again, surprised and then not at how easy it was to loop the island. This time he saw a flash of gold in the cliffs that lay just past her cabin. 

Emma was pressed tightly to a ledge, sitting to lean against the rock as it crumbled from her scrabbling feet, one hand holding on to a root tightly and the other holding her opposite shoulder. The light muslin gown she wore was dark red under her hand. 

"Emma?" he yelled up at her, her wide eyes meeting his. She pressed fingers to her lips in a wince, looking up at the cliffs as if expecting something. Killian began looking for a way up to her, the green smoke pouring over the edge catching him off guard. It swirled over the rocks, its mass forming a shape that resembled a clawed talon. 

There was no explanation for how it picked Emma up, and flung her off the cliff face to the hard packed earth below. 

Sprinting towards her as fast as his legs could carry him, he ran to where she lay sprawled on her side, her pale dress bright against the dark sand. Panic set in when she did not react at his touch. He brought her into his arms, rubbing her cold limbs. They warmed, and she sputtered, making a small keening noise when she moved. Her breathing was shallow, but she cracked a smile when her eyes opened to meet his own. 

"Maybe we should reexamine the idea of you being mad, because I believe that it may be spreading," he whispered, leaning her over so she could cough. 

"Killian," Emma sighed in relief when she had caught her breath.

"Darling, I don't know what is happening, but we're going to be alright. I'm sorry I didn't believe you, I'm sorry that I betrayed your trust by leaving you like that. I won't let anyone - " Two figures appeared on the far side of the beach, walking towards them as the sky turned to grey ash. Emma shook her head, panicking.

"I can't keep them from us, I'm too weak. I used everything I could on you and Milah," she whispered, her shoulder very clearly broken as she winced from trying to hold his hand. 

Knitting his brow, he looked at their village leaders, Cruella and Isaac, then back to Emma. "Don't worry, it's Isaac and I'll just tell him -" 

"No. You don't understand, we don't have time. I'm - Killian, I'm done for here. You don't need to die, you can hide, it will be easier if you hide. I don't want them to punish you. You're defenseless here, and they're going to drain me. Please, find me again. For now, you must go." Emma gave Killian an apologetic smile. 

Isaac moved from behind her, wrenching her away with tremendous force. Lilly appeared from down the cliffside, the sky darkening to pitch as she tried to loosen Isaac's grip. Cruella surveyed the scene with a cruel smirk, her profile like ink on silk, eyes predatory as she strode towards him. 

"Isaac, it seems that we have some resistance. Emma, isn't it about time you forget about your problems for a bit? Lilly, Killian, don't you want your friend to relax?" Cruella purred. Her words were like mulled wine and honey, and Killian felt his head go fuzzy. 

Killian nodded, compelled to let Emma go into Isaac's grip, as Lilly hesitated. 

"Please Lilly, don't do this. Please, we're friends. Killian and I have to go -" 

Isaac interrupted with a wheezing noise, clamping a hand over Emma's mouth. "Lilly, do you want your cut or not?"

Lilly nodded solemnly. 

Emma cried behind Isaac's palm, eyes flickering to look at them all as he searched for a way out as she struggled. The earth shook, the sky almost as dark as pitch, lightning and thunder assaulting the beach. Killian noticed he didn't feel discomfort, not even worry. The warmth in his chest made him feel tired, even as a place in his mind screamed that he needed to focus on Emma, get Emma out - 

He let his eyes slowly meet her own, watching as Isaac removed his hand, letting go of Emma, her back arching and fists balling. Her eyes wrenched shut and she trembled, silently screaming, as magic poured out of her into Isaac's slowly moving palm. Isaac sighed, eyes fluttering, and stepped away. 

Lilly raised a rock in front of Emma, holding what looked to be a mere smoothed lava stone, but in reality was a magical artifact, and Killian watched as again magic flowed out of Emma's body, curling tendrils softly wrapping around the stone and making it glow slightly. Before Lilly could pull away, Cruella threw her aside, standing in front of Emma with their noses almost touching. Killian felt his heart beat faster, and that voice calling on him to do something, do anything, was so loud now. 

"Cruella, don't -" Isaac started, but was thrown aside with a flick of her red fingernails, disappearing into the air. Lilly charged the woman from the side, and Cruella simply laughed, and snapped her fingers, Lilly crumpling nearby. 

"Now then. Let's make the best use of this meeting, my sweetly dreaming little princess.” With her black and white hair blowing in the wind, she turned to Killian with a wide grin that made the angles of her face dark with shadows. Her red amulet seemed to smolder, green smoke pouring from around her. "Lover boy can watch so he can see what it is he's up against every time he ruins one of these dreams. It doesn't matter how many you destroy, I'll make sure that she is happy and get what I want. You won't take her from me, puppy." 

Emma made a small noise of protest, but Cruella's long fingers sprung out to wrap around her neck. Emma’s eyes shot open, wide and completely white, powerful magic pouring off her while her tears reflected on her cheeks like diamonds. 

Killian took a step toward them, and another, stumbling on the now uneven sand. Looking toward the village, he could see it breaking away, floating in places as it caved in on itself. As if the information was always there in his mind, he knew with a dulled realization that his brother, his family, were all long dead or never there. 

Cruella's cackle made his head snap to look at Emma, watching as the magic that was like rays of sunshine was being pulled into Cruella's body, the light swirls of it going dark as it touched her. Emma's fists went limp, her fingers uncurling and head beginning to loll, her own magic mixing with the dark of Cruella's, going more of a gray before dimming. Cruella let her drop to the sand, the small patch of beach they all were on the only thing left on a stark white canvas as she disappeared in a cloud of dark black smoke. His legs still felt leaden, but Killian moved in a clumsy and scrabbling crawl towards Emma, finding her barely breathing, her nose and ears bleeding slightly. The beach shrunk further as he cradled her closely, Lilly's unconscious body disappearing. 

Fractures appeared around them, the whiteness creeping up with speed. Emma's eyes flickered open briefly, dull and tired, looking up at him with confusion. 

"Who…?" she murmured, before falling back into unconsciousness. 

The white had crept up all around them, Killian’s foot falling off the crumbling edge he now balanced on, Emma's legs almost pulling him away and into the nothingness. He gathered her closer, pulling her onto his lap, before they fell into the white abyss. It darkened quickly, smoke and debris making them spin, Emma's body tucked into his own. 

Stroking her hair he kissed her forehead, whispering softly that they would be alright, their descent either slowing or bodies growing used to the velocity. She didn't answer or stir, her breathing at least steady, but he felt her nose begin to drip again and tore off a piece of his shirt to hold there. She struggled then, frustrated that her nose was blocked most likely, waking briefly. 

"What….?" 

"Emma, I don't know -" 

"Emma? Who…? Who is Emma?" she asked, confused. 

"You're Emma, Princess Emma. That's your name, please -" 

"I'm Emma? Who are you then? Where are we and why can't I see you?" She touched his face, slowly running her hand over his cheek. "I know you."

"Yes, love. You do. I'm -" 

And then he gripped nothing, the hand on his cheek replaced with a gentle stirring of cold air, silence falling around him in the vacuum of where the princess no longer was. He shook his head, suddenly confused. The princess, he'd called her that hadn't he? Memories assaulted him one after the other without mercy. 

Yes, the princess, the sleeping princess, her body next to his in the Kitsune cathedral, raised on a dais of marble. Lilly begging him to wake her, his own fears after waking from some attack confirmed, warning that the imprisoned Kitsunes had made their play, and Emma - 

Emma was in danger of wasting away, becoming a husk of what she was. She lay so still, he could see the memory of her pale face and body dressed in the crimson color of the apples in their orchard, the square cut of the neckline barely moving. The Darkness had rejoiced and asked the Dragon princess to take the shard, but Killian had fought for her, made the draughts himself from the library to join her, and when he failed, she brought him back again and again. 

How many times had he failed her? How many times did she have to whisper for him to remember or to find her, always to find her? That this time he was her savior and the guide out of this place? 

Isaac's voice hissed right in his ear, "Come then, villain. We will let you be the hero." Killian fumbled through the smoke, searching for the man flailing through darkness. The world spun faster and faster, the crack to the side of his head mercifully stopping its wandering. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

_ The real losers in this terrible scheme are as always, the Other's prey: its own kind taken mercilessly. They don't know the secret of their cull, the Other hides her falsehoods from them with care. They believe that the Other is a force of good.  _

_ Emma knows better.  _

_ An empty husk cannot reveal the Other's secret and her deceit. If Emma were to wake and tell tales of the Other taking more magic than needed, of creating these hollowed out husks to gorge itself, of the monster that waits in shadow to feast, or of its rigging the system to snub even what was once called friend - the result would be turmoil.  _

_ It's been easier to fix the game every single attempt, the process growing smooth, but this has been the easiest yet for the Other to win. Usually, the Other's pet, the Author, shares this stolen magic with the island after the unlucky victim burns out, grinding to nothing. They hollow, empty themselves, become hungry ghosts that fall together to have something in their lonely attempts to fill themselves with life. They go willingly to their ends for ideas of glory and duty, of the chance to be a savior; they believe they know the heaviness of the title. It's trickery, trickery that Emma herself has fallen for - a sacrifice that is supposed to be just a marginal chance in a lottery, but this time Emma is here instead. It's a welcome gift the Other cannot believe has fallen into its lap, a hen house full of plump chickens unlike anything the Other dared to dream of, a never-ending meal for its gluttonous creation.  _

_ In this place, realities are mixing together and Emma is losing her mind, sometimes even within memories that are not her own; minds immersing in each other in overlap. It is almost too easy for the Other to win this game.  _

_ Emma's magic keeps coming without end, magic that is draining steadily to break this curse that Regina and Queen Snow have bungled. A spell that is both broken and at the same time not; cast wrong in the midst of war, cast by a distraught friend turned foe knowing that she must do something to prevent more death. It is a blade with a double edge, the spell meant to banish and preserve under a barrier, its power never anticipated being fought against. The many cracks in the spell have given way to create effects in the spell's makeup, rippling out into a terrible fate that no one could have foreseen. How do creatures made mostly of magic themselves survive without it? The barrier decays slowly, but the magic within leaks free through the cracks. The creature claws at it haplessly, and the Other simply held out until their lucky day.  _

_ The chance that Emma can give them freedom is too great to pass up, even if just for a few of them. No one could ever suspect the greater good is only for the few.  _

_ Emma falls again, and she is sure the Other is somewhere, smiling as it drains her, and pushes her one step closer to being devoid of everything.  _

######  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The smell of tobacco and the feel of velvet registered in Killian’s mind as he stuttered to waking, the confusion and memories of what had passed hitting him in blurred increments. He was sitting in a wingback chair, the velvet arms a taupe color that complimented the quilt that covered part of the back. The room he was situated in was tall and rounded, stretched tall with shelves that seemed to go on for a great while. Windows dotted the circular walls where bookcases stuffed with tomes did not, and beams stuck out here and there as if they had been jammed in by a giant's great hand. The wood was wrapped thickly in rope that served as pulleys, dreamcatchers and strange charms hanging from any other unclaimed space. Scrolls, crystals, and sculptures sat in disarray all over the shelving. Beside him a fireplace crackled merrily, and across from him sat a chair matching his own, where Isaac looked on expectantly. 

Killian attempted to spring up from his chair to throttle the smaller man, but reddish smoke appeared around him as Isaac yelped. The smoke formed heavy chains that pulled him back to his seat, Isaac looking at him from behind hands raised to protect his face. 

"Wait, wait!" Isaac gasped out, and Killian struggled against the manacles. "Hold on -" 

"Where's Emma?" Killian yelled, and Isaac lowered his hands. Killian tried again to lunge at him, Isaac flinching back slightly, but could not move farther than just above his seat. He growled, and Isaac laughed nervously. 

"All in good time. Are you settled? We have a lot to discuss, my boy." Isaac sighed. "Tea? It's a dream, so I can get you any kind either of us has in our memory -" 

"Where," Killian gritted out, "Is Emma you rotten---" 

"No tea then. Okay. Well." Clapping his hands on his lap, Isaac looked at Killian with a patient smile. "How much do you remember?" 

"Emma is asleep under your bloody rites, which she was tricked into because you are all well and good in some madness about sacrifices -" 

"Yes well, living is quite important to us, as a species and just as a whole biological imperative," Isaac said with a bit of nervous amusement in his tone.

"You're killing your own kind, you wanking imbecile -" 

"No, no, no -  _ I'm _ not. That's not the intention or my purpose. I didn't even know about the hungry ghosts until a few cycles ago. Even then, Cruella is the monster. I want the Kits to go back, I don't like doing all this," he gestured, and Killian narrowed his eyes. "I'd rather be writing other things, you know." 

"Writing?" Killian blinked, his confusion making Isaac grin. 

"Yes, writing. I can write fantasies that happen in the dreamscape or if someone has altered perception. I write three strengthening tasks for this ritual normally, but… Emma has made that a bit more difficult." He pressed his fingers close together as if to pinch, in a gesture showing a small amount. "She's doing most of the work, I give her a few vague notions and boom - she's drowned the page in what she wants or expects to happen, or what you want or you expect to happen."

Killian let his shoulders sag. He thought for a moment, before asking quietly, "How long have we actually been here?" 

"Just over a week. It's incredible, really. We've pulled you both from each other's minds so many times. You won't believe how many dreamcatchers I've had to make, but Emma, she fights that like it's nothing. A mere parlor trick." Isaac made a noise like a scoff, rubbing his temples. "Usually a Kitsune would have burned out around the third dream. Now, I've lost count how many iterations we've been through, some stacked on top of the other. The main formula remains the same, though: She dreams, we drain her magic that is heightened by the fantasy, and then it restarts. With Emma, it was hard to get her to restart initially, especially when you entered the picture. We started having to, well. Kill you both."

Blanching, Killian could not hide the shock on his face. Isaac laughed lightly, trying to pat him on the knee as he reared back from the man's touch. 

Tutting slightly, Isaac shook his head. "Oh, don't be too upset. It only hurts in the dream and only for a moment… at least for you that is. I have no idea about your lady. She's entirely beyond my understanding, and her magic is unpredictable to the extent of creating chaos on already unstable magic."

Killian was floored, almost collapsing as if to melt into the armchair that mirrored Isaac's. Isaac continued on as Killian laid his head in his hands, one hand, no longer a hook, scratching at his scalp softly. He ached for Emma to be there to hear this, process this with him, possibly from the fact she currently shared his mind. 

"Which, I mean, I can understand, it's old, esoteric magic work, but not failure proof. Like the separation of your little friend the Darkness. That took skill, and I was lucky to get it out on the first go, especially since you were quite the unexpected guest." Isaac gestured as if flicking off dirt. Killian stared at his hands, watching them shake. 

Isaac cleared his throat, suddenly aware he was no longer being attentively listened to. Killian’s eyes snapped back and he continued on. 

"But not my book, alright, and that's what - I mean as a researcher you must understand, I'm floored. The book has some of the strongest magic in these worlds, realms, and planes - and here, your 'Lass' is, fighting it off as if it was a glamour. Some people remember once or twice, but not everyday, and bringing herself to you or you to her! You weren't even supposed to fall asleep the first time, but you must have done something - a potion or draught maybe?" He rubbed his chin, thoughtful, before shaking the idea away. 

"Regardless, there should have been no second time, but she just summoned you in like you were supposed to be there. We kept trying to stop you from saving her, or whatever she wanted. It's just incredible. It's not, it's just not feasible that she can break through in every pocket of memory, or time - we were completely blindsided by Milah, Liam, and Erica? No, Elsa, that's right; Emma's mind or magic - haven't figured out which yet - will not allow you to not have good memories, nothing could fight my quill with her giving the ink. If one of us stepped in to try and correct her, give her a little punishment by way of hurting you in some way, she would find a way around it. She's fascinating." 

"So why are you letting this happen? Are you going to give her to Cruella?" Killian gripped the arms of the chair, heart racing again at the thought. "I won't let you -" 

"Cruella?" Isaac let out a bark of surprised laughter, shaking his head. "No, no. Cruella isn't a friend of mine. We are… We rely on each other with a mutual vehement dislike. Cruella is just a leech that can shapeshift and manipulate, like her imitation of you to convince Emma or her thrall on the beach there. That won't work again on you, or at least not very well, her thrall is a one trick pony. Cruella has a great love of the finer things in life, and I helped her get them with my quill. She used me as she uses anyone within her reach. I haven't stopped since finding out about her trickery, because it would be a suicide mission. She'd make me a puppet or chain me away."

"You still should have said something you coward! How can you just sit there -" 

"Because I don't have the trust of Mal and Zorro like Cruella does. Understand, Dark One, that they may rule this island on the surface, but it is that Kitsune She-Devil who pulls the strings and has everyone under her thrall." Isaac looked sad for a moment, but it quickly left his face as if he remembered himself. He cleared his throat and began again. 

"Cruella, Maleficent, Regina and by proxy, myself, had plans to kill Snow Whitehart of the United Realms before she could take her place as queen. Maleficent and the traitor, Regina, backed out after Maleficent found herself with child, and Regina's precious Daniel Equi was killed by Goblins. They ran to the crown, and Regina's punishment was banishing her two closest friends to an island they cannot leave. Eternity is a long time on an island that you cannot escape. I don't care to stay, and I wouldn't mind to go." Isaac drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair before turning himself to sit sideways, head resting in his palm while his elbow pressed into the place his fingers had been. 

Killian cocked his head confused. "You're safe here though, with plenty of food and that library -" 

"Not exactly 'safe'. We're - both Kitsune and Dragons - Elemental beings. Not having magic stung as the spell began to decay from our attempts, but it's been fixed since we came up with the Harvest. We'd all rather not find out what happens when there is no magic as we are creatures that rely on it for survival," Isaac laughed darkly. 

"I'm not in the lottery because I'm integral to keeping up the magic supply they divvy up. Que sera sera, as they say. Some of us have made peace, some gripe about the sacrifice, but Cruella has never known calm in her life. Especially now, since she's gotten quite a taste for Emma's powers, more so than ever. Hollowed out Kitsune after Kitsune doing her feeding, it's a shame." The same sad look crossed Isaac's face, like a cloud darkening where sunshine had been. Isaac rubbed his palm over his eyes and forehead, as if to rub it away, grunting slightly. 

"Cruella wants to break out of this cage with her monster and do whatever it is her Goddess complex entails, and who should saunter into her web but a magic buffet that can do just that. Right now she's probably realized that we're talking, and looking for a way to prevent her prey from leaving. I truly think Emma will be left here a husk if Cruella has her way, taking all of her magic and letting her be the last piece to her collection of enraged spirits. I'm sure the princess has plenty of anger to feed that creature." The man shuddered, grimacing and closing his eyes tightly. 

Killian blinked, turning his head to the side slightly to question Isaac. "What creature?" 

"You haven't seen it then, the hungry ghosts all together?" Isaac raised a brow, sitting upright. "Oh, so you don't know about Cruella's pet! When you see that beast, you won't forget it. Cruella keeps it… hungry."

"How do I stop her? How can I protect Emma?" Killian almost pleaded, worry lacing the words. 

"I think if Emma has nightmares in succession, she can escape with you. Cruella won't like it because you'll expose her avarice and her plans, but me, I'm not greedy. I'm simply curious. If I had my way, I'd want you both to stay so I can study her magic." Isaac waved his hand, with a flourish and the manacles that bound his wrists fell away to smoke. "I want to see if I can contain it like your dark little secret, or see if we can create a power supply from longevity, so if she were to stay - " 

"Stay?" Killian interrupted. 

"Yes, stay. We're secured against Goblin filth, you don't have the Darkness in you here, she doesn't have to go to war. She's safe, like her parents probably wanted. I'd let her sleep a few days each week, and she could have memories of her family there or dream of whatever she wanted. Emma's happy here, and once Maleficent gets wind of this, she won't have anymore of this distress with Cruella. Cruella will be lucky if she gets to experience distress, Mal will probably eat her in a single bite." Isaac let out a delighted laugh, turning again in his seat and giggling at the thought. He wiped tears from his eyes, throwing them aside. 

Raising a finger and wagging it, he turned his head to look at Killian. "But, more importantly, you're happy here, and you're free. No need for that nightmare business or any unhappy thoughts. That's the other option, you see; you could give in. It's a paradise. There's always the off chance she truly does free us, as that would be preferable. I'm just looking at odds that say not good. The least favorable of course goes unsaid, but I'm inclined to think you like my alternative."

"I couldn't. Emma is fighting this with every bit of strength she has. She's made it clear that she can't possibly - she doesn't want to be here." Killian took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "She wants to actually find her family, be free of this, save her people and -" 

"And now she has friends here, " Isaac shrugged, "You could be the hero for once, not the villain. I mean, don't you want that? She doesn't seem so clear when she figures out that this is really you. You could be a little selfish, Lieutenant."

"Those feelings - She doesn't really feel that way." Killian looked away, but could feel Isaac's smile without needing to see it. "And I can't do that to her, I can't lo - I can't enjoy her friendship only to have her realize that I…" 

"You're going to give up a chance to see what it could be like if she and you were something more?" Killian tried to protest but Isaac silenced him with a noise. 

"Ah, ah! The dear little princess obviously reciprocates your," Isaac coughed, laughing slightly as he made a strange gesture with his fingers, enunciating, "'Hidden Feelings'. And why wouldn't she? Without your Darkness, and her desire to die trying to save a kingdom that will war for ages after this, you two are pretty well matched."

Swallowing hard, Killian looked down at his boots. "No."

"Hm. Well, what do you say we give you both a few more days. Emma can't be taken out yet, she's still dreaming what is written. After that, she will be back to the waking world, hopefully with the barrier broken." Isaac sat up again, letting out a loud gasp. "Saaaaay - man to man, how about I do you a little favor? I'll make it so she knows who you are, and if all goes right, that she won't remember a single bit of this."

"Why? Just her and I, of what it could have been if we were just ordinary? Why would I do that to myself?" Killian looked at Isaac, his narrowed eyes easily showing his incredulity. 

"Because she won't remember, and because once that toxic sludge climbs back on your bones, you'll at least have had a moment of happiness with her, before her inevitable end. Even a husk is a better option than what awaits her out there if she fails. That's a heavy risk, and I would wager that with your little dark conscience there, you might not be able to bet on anything but what it believes is the winning horse." Isaac shrugged once more, Killian's chest aching. "Regardless of if you want her to see you like this one last time or not, she's going to dream. Take it, or you can leave it."

"No tricks?" Killian said slowly. "What dream will she have?" 

"No tricks. I don't know what her dream will be," Isaac shrugged again, scratching his balding head. "Whatever she's thinking of strongly, enough to enter the slumber."

"How can I trust you? What about Cruella?"

"You can't. I could just write another ending, make another dreamcatcher, tweak and twist things as much as I can against her magic making you miserable while keeping you trapped - but, I do prefer happy endings, the happiest for everyone being the barrier’s destruction. As the Kitsune leader, I'd prefer them to stop being turned into mindless zombies, and to be able to get good rice wine again." The reddish smoke appeared again, morphing into a red porcelain decanter patterned with a golden dragon. Two small cups without handles followed after it as they bounced down to Isaac. He offered some to Killian, but Killian shook his head. One of the cups vanished in a puff of smoke. 

"I've been desperate for it, and they make the best batches in the Eastern mountains. As for Cruella, who knows what that witch is doing at any time; best to believe it's malicious and plan for the worst." 

He threw back his glass, shivering with glee as it went down. The decanter and cup dissolved into nothing. 

Killian hesitated for a long moment, leaning forward to place his face in his hands and scrub hard at the back of his neck. "You swear to me that she won't remember? That this, whatever this is, once we are out of here she'll be okay? That I can give her a chance, that she can maybe find someone worthy of her once she saves her family?" 

"Wow, you actually believe she can succeed! You of all people know I can't guarantee safety for the princess. I'm doing the best I can as it is. If you want to stay around and protect her, feel free to risk it. I have no idea." Killian scowled at the man, who cocked his head mockingly. "Are you sure that you want to waste this obvious devotion you have for your lady love?" Isaac grinned. 

"Isaac. Answer me. Will she remember?"

"Yes, yes. She won't remember. You'll have your precious memories, and only you." Reaching forward, Isaac offered his hand. "Deal?" 

Killian hesitated, before reluctantly shaking the man's hand.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Falling out of the dream from Isaac's push was like going from a pillow bed to a vat of tar. The Darkness attacked him instantaneously, the feeling of it like a great ripping and writhing mass as it reclaimed every inch of him that had reprieve. Its voice was shrill, sensations overwhelming all at once, its attempts to force him to stop his endeavors disarming. 

** _TAKE THE SHARD! TAKE IT, TAKE IT, TAKE IT NOW! TAKE IT OR ELSE - TAKE IT AND FREE US, FREE US SO WE MAY HAVE OUR LIFE BACK IN THE SHADOWS_ **

It went on, never ending. The voice could scream for as long as it needed. Killian did not find he cared. 

Emma lay still, hands folded at the waist, a satin wrapped bouquet wilting against her bosom. His attention elsewhere, the Darkness shrieked in fury. Killian let it, let it begin breaking him again, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers cracked as he pulled them away, but he ignored them. Laying on his cot next to her, he laughed quietly to himself, the Darkness trying desperately to keep him in its clutches without success. 

** _DON’T YOU DARE! COWARD! _ **

Its snarling howls fell away, the falling sensation abating as he landed in a soft seat while a balmy late spring day appeared out a large open window next to him. Flower petals fell over a courtyard, the garden spectacular in its beauty. The walls were high on the other side, huge windows allowing a view from multiple stories of what could be nothing but the palace. 

Orchestral music played somewhere nearby, the polished floors gleaming in the light of a chandelier. Standing up from the plush, velvet wingback chair, Killian walked towards the sound of the music. A hand clapped him on the back, the familiarity of it and the warmth spreading through him and bringing back so many memories, and Killian readied himself as he turned. 

"Younger brother! It's about time you saunter into your own bash." Liam grinned at him. Killian felt a deep pang of loss followed by gratitude for the ability to see his brother again. Emma's doing, no doubt. He quirked an eyebrow swallowing back any sadness with a smirk, and let himself have the moment. 

"Do my ears deceive me, or does my ancient and senile brother actually refer to me correctly as younger?" he quipped. A servant brought by a drink assortment, Liam taking a tumbler while Killian waved the man away. 

"Don't despair, Killian. This courtesy lasts only for tonight - nothing about your award ceremony can be little, especially when it coincides with a chance to mingle with your pick of lovely women vying for your attention." Liam sipped his drink, walking in the direction of the music, Killian walking next to him. His brother was in full regalia which explained his own, but he couldn't place what ceremony they could be at together at the palace. In his time in the Navy, Killian had only seen the old grounds, not the always growing and subtly shifting palace Emma knew. It had been in construction secretly during war time, Liam only seeing the beginnings of it and construction concepts. 

"Brother," Liam said sternly, and Killian fell from his thoughts. 

"Hm, yes?" 

"I said," Liam sighed, rolling his eyes. "Are there any in particular that you have a fancy for? I've heard rumors, but they cannot possibly be correct."

"I, well..." Killian’s face heated, thinking of the princess. The thought occurred to him that Milah may be in this dream too if he wasn't careful. He licked his lips, but Liam interrupted, giving his arm a squeeze. 

"I know it's been difficult with what happened to Milah, but if you truly have moved on, even to as much as being open to someone -" Liam turned him, holding a hand on both of his shoulders as he searched Killian’s face. "I am beyond happy for you, not to mention proud. Especially if she's a higher status than us, which by the way - having to hear news by way of Elsa's gossip is very unbecoming, Lieutenant. I should hope that as a Captain you learn to communicate better."

Killian swallowed hard, his brother's pride and praise so long unheard. Whatever this was could not be a memory, Liam and Milah erased within the same terrible days, and being named Captain was impossible considering his war crimes. This was at one time his dream, in some ways. A promotion at the palace complete with pomp, all while his brother and loved ones looked on. Before Milah the dream had included adoring women in droves, until he danced with a finely dressed lady who was his one and only 'true love' like some boyhood fantasy. 

Liam led him to a curtain, drawing it back to reveal an opulent ballroom. Trumpets sounded and dancers stopped twirling, those at tables standing while others simply had their attention drawn to where Liam and him stood. 

"Presenting Killian Jones, savior of the realms. Long may he live!" a voice called out, the revelers repeating it with whoops and shouts. 

He stepped forward, Liam falling a step behind as they made their way to a table in the front of the room. Elsa hurriedly snuck her elbow through Liam’s as they walked, and Ingrid already stood there with Anna. Another blare of trumpets came louder and longer, and the voice called out again, much more excitedly this time. 

"Their Majesties, King David and Queen Snow of the United Realms, and her Highness, Princess Emma. Long may they reign and may their lives be longer still!" 

While the revelers repeated the announcer’s words, the King and Queen appeared waving, sitting at the head table with them. Emma was the spitting image of the King in so many ways, his eyes and hair, the soft smile, but her mother's beauty and fine features were very present. The Queen had the same nervous brow furrowing as Emma, looking around at everything as if she was confused. She met his eyes, and her own narrowed. Opening her mouth to say something, she quickly stopped when Emma appeared, looking bashful. 

"I forgot my note cards," she whispered under her breath, taking a seat next to him, and her mother sighed exasperated. Emma continued on, talking to her parents. "I'm sorry, I have just been out of sorts today - I can't figure out my up from my -" 

Shifting in her full gown, its champagne fabric crinkling, she glanced at him with a polite smile, turning back to her mother to begin again before whipping her head back to look at him with wide eyes. 

"Your Highness," Killian nodded, amused. Isaac had promised him recognition and was not to be out done, apparently. Emma retaining her memories of him would make this fantasy an entirely different sort of dream. 

Emma stared at him with her mouth slightly parted, unable to speak. Her mother coughed, breaking the spell as Emma nodded in acknowledgement. 

"I'm sorry Mother, I was saying I'm out of sorts today. I will introduce the new Captain with the generic toast and if you and Father want to add to his accolades, you can do so," she said calmly, back to ignoring him once again. Killian frowned slightly, but played with the small spoon in the place setting to stave off the wait until she would have a moment. "I think his brother wants to give the majority of the toast anyway, so no large fuss."

"Emma, are you okay then? Nothing else that we should confer about before this? We can push off toasts until after dancing and talk just you and I; you can talk to me about anything. I miss you so much," The Queen took Emma's hand in her own, squeezing it. Her eyes met his and she quickly looked back at Emma. "We can go right now; we don't have to even stay -" 

Emma giggled, delighted. "I am not the only one out of sorts today then. When have you been one to tease like this?" 

"Emma, I don't know what this is or -" 

"I'm fine. I promise you that this is the last time I lose my note cards or smear ink on my dress from trying to get out of memorizing a speech." Emma gave a firm nod, and gave a squeeze back before she removed her hand from her mother's grip. "Let's get this over with so the new Captain can parade his awards around and we are closer to a foot rub."

Winking at the Queen, Emma turned to him. 

"Hi!" she said, smiling brightly. 

"Princess, I can't say that I haven't waited for this moment since -" 

"I suppose that I must have seen you around during the war efforts, and I've heard of your heroics, but I admit that it is my mutual pleasure to meet you, Captain. You seem so familiar to me, but I owe you my life so many times over. I suppose that must be it?" Emma looked up at him, and his heart sank. There was no recognition there but the faintest notion of what they were to each other. 

He smiled back, unable to help himself even as a strange sort of sadness ran through him. "I'd save your life as many times as you would let me, Princess."

"Oh, you are a silver tongue. I'm sure you are delighted by the turn out tonight," she snickered. 

He shrugged, his smile going sad, the grief of losing this promised chance Isaac had failed to give them finally setting in fully. "I had someone, but they're gone now. The war took her."

Emma stiffened, her smile wiped clean away. "I'm so sorry. If I had known, I would have never -" 

"It's fine love. I've been fortunate enough to find someone else who is so far more remarkable than anyone I dare to guess is also present with us. She doesn't remember me, which is a shame. I will win her heart again without fail and without trickery, as I have in the past. Hopefully, I'll remind her of everything that has come to pass between us." Reaching for her hand, she watched entranced as he lifted it to his lips to kiss her knuckles. The moment he touched them to the soft skin, she shivered, and something lit in the full pools of jade her pupils had become. 

"After all," he whispered, smoothing over where he had kissed with his thumb as he lowered her hand. "I will always find her."

Emma looked stunned, her breathing slightly ragged as she tried to suck in a hiss of air in her tightly threaded gown. Turning to her mother who was talking with her father in a tense discussion of some sort, she choked out a whisper. 

"Mom, Mother, I - you're right. Let's do the toasts after dancing and dinner, with dessert. It's unconventional, yes, but I need - I need a moment." Her mother looked alarmed, but Emma raised a finger. "I'm fine. Nothing is wrong, no code words dropped. I just - it's very warm in here isn't it? I think dancing will give me some air, or I can slip outside. I just need more time to compose myself."

"Alright, but Emma?" The Queen's tone was nothing but concern, her eyes no longer flicking to look at him, but darting to the corner of her eye like a Bogey-Man lay behind her. "If any of this feels wrong, strange, or just off, tell me. Do you understand?" 

Emma nodded. The Queen stood, grabbing the King's arm and dragging him upwards. He shot Killian a look that was unmistakably displeased, but brushed it off almost immediately in a display of grateful hosting. 

"Guests of honor, toasts will be held at dessert to lend more time to celebration. Please dance, and dinner will be served as soon as the time arises," the Queen announced, clapping her hands. The lights of the ballroom began to twinkle as she took to the dance floor with the King. The orchestra played louder once more, a slow and haunting tune that swelled beautifully as they spun. 

"Princess?" he asked, leaning over far closer than he should. She smelled so lovely, the urge to kiss the juncture of her neck and shoulder where it peeked out from under the pleated neckline making him grit his teeth. 

She stammered out something that wasn't quite a word, color creeping onto her cheeks. Taking a breath while he chuckled, she managed another try. "Yes? Yes, what is it that you need -" 

"I would  _ like _ to ask you for this dance, or several. I have no  _ need _ , except to admit to you that I ask because you are beautiful beyond measure tonight." He stood, offering his hand. Although her face heated further and she gaped at him in shock, she took it quickly in her own without hesitation. 

Her hand fit perfectly in his own as he remembered, and like so many times before he spun her into a waltz. It was hard to keep from pulling her too close the way he was accustomed too, already too informal and too forward here as it were. The court had so many risks, what he wouldn't give to be back in the village, the forest, the street fair, the tavern, so many lives layered together, or to have her remember - 

"You dance like a magician," Emma said in wonder. More were joining them on the dance floor, but Emma swept them away in her radiance. She seemed to shimmer as if she was something imagined, even as he was sure she was real and so much more importantly, her. His Emma. 

"Oh?" he grinned, twirling her. She laughed brightly at what here would be considered absurdity, a frivolous move that did not belong in dancing. If it was unbecoming, neither cared. "Do I now, princess? Pray tell?" 

"You haven't stepped on my feet once, Captain. You anticipate my every move as if you are a seer. Even when you did whatever that spin was, I feel as though I'm floating on air in your lead. I have not danced like this in hundreds, probably thousands of dance partners, and rarely do I give such praise." Emma subtly shifted, moving her body slightly closer to his own. He hummed, leaning in slightly. 

“Much better, with a partner who knows what they're doing,” Killian whispered into her ear, and she beamed up at him. 

"I don't know what it is about you, but you're so familiar, like I know you. Like I should know you, and I feel like I'm drowning just by being in your presence. I… I've never known anything like this, Lieu - I mean Captain, sorry." They stopped, no longer spinning. They had ended up near the curtains where he had entered, sequestered away from the majority of prying eyes. Pressing her hands to his chest she traced a pattern in the heavy fabric. "You mean something to me in a way that hurts me to be away from you. Like knowing you're here makes me feel so safe, so cared for. Something is there, a deeper emotion; I just can't grasp it."

"Princess, I should -" he started, but Emma swayed towards him, closer still. 

"Maybe we should stop dancing, I'm a bit dizzy…" Emma whispered, looking up at him with reverence. 

Killian touched her face gently, bringing his forehead against her own. "We've stopped, darling."

"Oh. So we have." Her lips brushed against his palm, one of her hands reaching up to play with the hair on his neck, tugging slightly at the tie of his queue. "This feeling, this familiarity as if I've been through a hundred lives with you finding me…?" 

"Yes?" he whispered, her fingers pulling him to her, bodies pressed tightly together even against her golden gown and his uniform. 

Emma's touch moved around his neck to his jaw, her thumb's soft pad stroking the scar of his cheek. "Is it lo-" 

"Lieute - Capt -  _ Whatever you are _ !" the king hissed as he clapped a hand roughly on Killian’s shoulder, a grin on his face that was dangerous, his eyes wild. "A word, if you will."

"Daddy, please -" Emma started as the King pushed between them. 

Her father's eyes flashed darkly, and Emma stepped back in surprise. The king composed himself, failing to cover his curled lips. "Emma, stay there and dance with someone else, but not like… Whatever the hell this was." 

"I regret this interruption too, but I am nothing if not gracious, except dashingly handsome." Emma giggled at his humor, her father's glare at her causing her to cough instead, while Killian brushed off the King’s hand. He bowed before Emma, kissing her hand as her face flushed with red. "I await my next dance with you Princess, with hope that you will not suffer through thousands more partners before I return." 

She laughed prettily, and curtsied. The King caught his shoulder as he rose, pulling him to stand and gripping his elbow like he meant to break it. Dragging him across the ballroom floor, only a few onlookers seemed to notice as everyone else danced. The Queen stood up, taking a few steps from her seat, Ingrid and Anna rising as well. Liam and Elsa were waltzing, and Killian tried to memorize the happiness on their faces. A stampede of wild horses could not distract them from gazing at each other, laughing as they turned. The King pulled him into the hallway briskly, passersby gasping and bowing as Killian was dragged past. 

"Oi, er, your grace -" 

"Shut up. Just shut up," the King gritted out, before opening a door and throwing Killian inside. 

He'd been brought to a study, or small library he guessed, the walls paneled and bookshelves built into the rich wood. Several busts sat on shelves or rested on pillars, a globe and realm switcher sat opposite each other on either set of a large desk that was covered in scrolls. There were no windows, but the realm switcher emitted a light golden glow along with a few spread out wisp filled lamps. The King pushed past him, knocking him hard on the shoulder. 

Killian examined his options, choosing to apologize and appeal to the status of the crown instead of battering the obstinate man with a chair and enjoying his time with Emma. He felt she might approve of one method over the other, even without bias involved. 

"Your Majesty, I did not mean to offend, I had heard how lovely your daughter was -" 

"Come off it then, Jones. Do you think even your status as Captain can buy access to the throne?" The King turned slightly to sneer, pushing around scrolls on the desk. "We aren't Arendelle, we are the crown. There are standards here, not sheer desperation; especially with the knowledge that your kingdom is doomed, causing a royal to settle for a Navy sea dog."

"Do you mean… Liam and Elsa?" The King’s eyes flicked up, and he shrugged. Killian took a steadying breath, now regretting his choice in options. "I assure you, sire, that pairing is very much a fine match from any purview except for yours. Her family and I were overjoyed -" 

"Yes, because your title has been lost under your drunken coward of a father's yellow streak. Do you think I want that attached to our family?" He pointed a finger, the nail long. "You didn’t want it attached to you and your brother enough to enscript to the war as fast as you could."

"My father abandoned our house to my brother, who has worked tirelessly to make sure that the people of the Blackwater and surrounding areas are safe." Killian balled his fists, his patience thinning further. Emma had mentioned her father was stubborn and overwhelming when it came to anyone courting her, but this seemed off for one of her dreams.

"You look and act just like him, you know." the King chuckled with malice. He drummed on the desk "That's my major reservation. When I saw my daughter with you all I could think is, 'There goes another coward. When will he abandon her, and break Emma's heart?'" 

Killian stared at the King, examining him closely. He seemed to blur and shimmer slightly, even after Killian blinked. In every other dream, the pattern had been the same: They would not separate if it was pleasant, as long as they had met, unless someone stepped in. Someone who had long fingernails, who spoke in words meant to bleed someone dry, and who did not use her own face.

"You are not Emma's father, are you?"

"So perceptive, my little hero. Pup caught the scent, and followed my trail. It's so much easier to convince you of being not worthy of her when there's that glorious Darkness rattling around in your head." The King leered at him, advancing with a swish of his hips, a black streak appearing in his hair. 

"Cruella." He nodded, stepping backwards to pick up a previously spotted fireplace poker. Like most items in the realms, it was made of a hard obsidian instead of iron, and would crack easily after a few hard blows. He was at a great disadvantage, let alone being on her preferred playing field of the dreamscape. 

Dramatically gesturing to the empty room, Cruella's laugh ran out of the King’s mouth. 

"Hello puppy. Fancy meeting you here." The smirk settling on the King’s face was suddenly much redder, and unmistakably not his. "I got a whiff of that hairbrained scheme you, Lilly, and Isaac cooked up to stop me, and thought I might drop in. Good thing I did too, now I can see how tight I have to make your leash to keep you from taking Emma away from me."

"What did you do to her? She doesn't remember me at all!" Killian lunged, the King seeming to shimmer as the woman giggled. 

He appeared next to Killian, patting his cheek, before reappearing in a wooden chair behind the desk, puffing on a long cigarette and throwing the poker aside. Killian dropped the ash she had left in his palm with disgust, now defenseless. 

"Well puppy, you kept me from what I wanted, which is to say… your sweet little puppy love, Emma." She giggled again, green smoke coming from the King's nostrils. "You make her remember that there's something better than our perfect paradise for you two. You made her feel things other than happiness and sweet dreams, making us both suffer. She barely gave me any magic after trying to keep you from your fears. I've been trying to plague you with nightmare after nightmare, but you keep coming back to ruin her happy dreams by making her accommodate you. Milah for example, or your brother Liam, or Elsa, or your sweet mother Alice - Every time I try to torture them, kill them, crush them in ways to destroy you, she saves you from their torment. Emma deserves happiness, isn't that what you told poor Isaac?" 

"This isn't happiness you bloody leeching witch - "

"Oh, but it is - when you aren't here to ruin it. So when you and Isaac chatted, I placed a curse of my own on poor sleeping Emma." She grinned, eyes narrowing at him. "Should anyone try to rescue her, the only way out will be through her worst nightmares, and I will torture her every step of the way until she goes mad at the sight of you. You're a prominent feature of her fears, so trust me, it will be easy. All I have to do if you keep meddling is let the curse run its course, nightmare after nightmare until she never wakes again and begs for happy thoughts."

"You wouldn't. You need her magic -" 

"Fun little tiddy bit, love." Cruella let the ash of her cigarette rain on the desk. " _ Your _ fear made Emma's magic weaker, because she expended so much to keep you comfortable. But  _ her _ fear is delicious, and so much easier to take. When she was scared for you, it blew me away. True nightmares only, of course. Absolutely mouth watering. When you are in a nightmare she is in, her fear is like finest champagne."

"You can't have her." Killian raised his voice, and she cackled harder. 

"Oh but I will. Every second you are in her dreams will be an endless loop of nightmares, and I'll take every bit of her magic, until she withers into a husk, angry, afraid and alone." Her smile was her own, under the king's eyes. She stood, and was suddenly trailing a finger down his shoulder at his side. "Or you could leave. I could even try and give you that shard…"

"Damn the shard," He lunged, and she was back at the desk, giggling while taking a long pull of her cigarette. "I won't stop until Emma is free of this. Emma has Isaac's dream to go through, and then your buggering curse. I will be here for her, and I will get her out of here. She will wake up." 

"She will never love you. She won't even remember this, and you, you monstrosity, you will never be able to love her." Cruella sneered through David's face, nails scratching the table. 

Killian laughed, and the king's face turned to fury. "It doesn't matter. The future isn't something to be afraid of if I love her right now - and I do." The confirmation of this fact took him by surprise, but it was irrefutable. Warmth spread through him, then a fierce heat that furthered his determination. "Regardless of everything, I love her at this moment. Regardless of everything, this is who I am under the Darkness, trying to protect her, trying to break through against all odds. " 

"You absolutely horrid little beast -" 

The door creaked, and Cruella's form of David snapped back into place, nothing but the small red choker indicating the deception. Queen Snow entered the room, and Killian bowed. 

"Ah, my love, this is poor timing I'm afraid." The king's voice was tinged with anger. He pointed at Killian. "This man is an imposter and a Goblin spy, we'll need to call the guard -" 

"Oh, my!" Snow picked up a heavy bust, ready to throw it at him. Killian flinched slightly, braced for the impact. "Is Emma safe?" 

"The princess should be -" Cruella turned towards the Queen in the king's form, just as she took both hands to lifted the bust above her head making to throw the heavy marble. Killian prepared himself, but instead watched as she brought it down on her husband's skull with a sickening crack. Cruella crumpled, her true form revealed as she began to fade away. 

Killian blinked as Snow panted, wiping dust from her hands. 

"Your Majesty, I - Um -" 

Snow drew a sword, stalking towards him with fury in her eyes like flame, so much like Emma's, the blade pressed against his neck. She spoke lowly, the edge there sharper than her sword. 

"That is not and was not my husband, Captain Liam has been dead for years, you are  _ most definitely _ not a lieutenant, and this, this is a sleeping curse. My Daughter's sleeping curse. So start talking, Dark One. And don't you dare skip anything."


	16. xiv

_ He woke to Lilly sitting beside Emma, holding her hand in her own. The sight made his stomach lurch. While things were still jumbled in his head, he could distinctly remember her betrayal as she burned the castle they were in to the ground as a Dragon, and her indifference on the beach as Emma was drained. She looked up to see him watching, and he could see she was crying, tears falling over a bitter frown. _

_ "I know. I don't have any excuses… Cruella manipulated me as if I was a puppet. I couldn't see it before, but now it's like I see everything." Lilly looked down, lightly smoothing Emma's hair. "I'm so sorry. I don't know how - I don't think I'm a match for her here or there. She's so much more powerful than I ever could imagine. She fooled us all." _

_ "Did you see Emma? I couldn't get to her before I woke. Isaac pulled me into some kind of bubble. She looks even weaker, and last I saw her..." _

_ "Cruella is draining so much more than usual. I don't understand how or why Cruella keeps taking her magic, but Emma is falling apart. Her dreams are sometimes unstable, her magic is too powerful to be contained within the rites, and it's not always Isaac in control. I am really frightened for her." Lilly swallowed hard. "I saw Cruella talking to this… this thing; a big black monster wearing a no face, I mean, a husk mask. It spoke in a thousand voices, and was almost gelatinous, forming limbs as it pleased. Emma swore she saw the same monster in the bath house here, and it told her that it was 'Hungry'. I didn't believe her then, but I heard it say the same thing as Cruella soothed it. She promised it that she would free it soon, as soon as she was done fattening it up. Does she mean for it to eat Emma? Why would she befriend that thing?" _

_ Isaac's words began to return to him. _

_ "The hungry ghosts. Cruella wants Emma to be a husk. If Emma falls and loses herself, Cruella will be more than powerful, practically unstoppable, with Emma's magic fueling her own. That creature you saw is what's left of the husk's who got lost in those fantasies, tricked by Cruella. Isaac has an idea - Emma has to hang on, has to shock herself awake through nightmare after nightmare, but not lose herself in the process." _

_ "Cruella is not going to go down without a fight," Lilly warned, and he nodded, Emma's pull making him suddenly tired. "I'll keep watch. Get Emma out of there, and please keep her safe." _

_ "That's the plan. I won't leave her." He closed his eyes, feeling himself leave the cathedral. _

_ A noise stopped him and as if he was a ghost, he looked down at Emma, himself, and Lilly struggling against two men. One carried a crowbar while the other brandished a club, swiping at her as she looked back to where they lay. With a pucker of her lips and a deep breath, Lilly blew fire in a circle around them all, the men stalking the perimeter. _

_ "Now now, Lillykins. That wasn't very fair, considering. Horace and Jasper just wanted to greet you with a firm salutation." Cruella stepped across the flames, the orange fire going green as she passed through. She smiled in her spotted dress as Lilly backed up against the dais. _

_ "What more do you want? You're killing her!" Lilly yelled, and Cruella laughed. _

_ "I've been doing this for a long time now, luvvie. If I'd do it to my own kin, what makes her anything special? It's poetry that she's also an enemy, and so strong, but I'd have manipulated this outcome regardless." Cruella smiled, approaching where Emma slept. "Now listen, be a darling little beast and move out of the way so I can make sure no one interferes anymore. It'll only take a minute." _

_ "No! Why are you doing this? What do you mean your own kind? I don't understand, I -" _

_ The man with the club connected it hard to Lilly's skull, Cruella looking on with a piteous grimace. The Dragon princess crumpled, falling to the floor and twitching, Killian’s view stuttering as she lost consciousness. Cruella tried to push Lilly aside with her foot, but grew annoyed within seconds. _

_ "Horace! Jasper! Throw her in the crypts. I have work to do." _

_ The taller of the men picked up Lilly as the Dragon groaned, Killian relieved to see her alive. They stepped out, and his vision of the cathedral grew foggy. The pull was getting too strong to resist as Lilly faded further into his mind, regardless of his grounding anger towards the Kitsune queen. _

_ "Oh, Princess. You will be the finest of my collection. When my ghosts get a taste of you, oh, how they'll feast. You'll all be so angry," Cruella cackled, her voice far away now. "I cannot wait to see what the full extent of your magic can do." _

  
  


*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The explanation Killian had given Queen Snow was thorough, but much more like a briefing than the story of what had all gone on. He intentionally skirted around his and Emma's misunderstandings, both good and bad, and left out as much of Her Grace’s mistakes as possible. If that conversation was to be had, it belonged rightfully to Emma. Telling her that Emma's determination and belief that he had faith in her was enough to place her in peril would be more than enough of a conversation between him and the queen. It didn't help that he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from praise, Emma's unselfish, kind, and courageous attempts to save him from cruelty while he should have been protecting her forefront in his mind now that Cruella preyed on them so openly. 

"So, a sleeping curse cast by none other than Cruella De Villé. I wish I could say I was surprised. I truly had hoped Maleficent's influence and Regina staying the sword over their necks would have changed their ways." The queen sighed deeply. "That still begs the question, why did you run to my daughter's aid?" 

_ Because I would do anything to save her. I owe her that, a thousand times moreover. Because I… _

"I already destroyed my own family once and that was hard enough." He kept his tone formal, although his nerves felt like they were fraying as the queen observed him with an owlish glare. His unfinished thought rattled him. Did she know? "But knowing that I destroyed yours, too? I just---I didn't know how I could live with that." 

"Interesting, but not an answer that relates directly to Emma. From what I have gathered, you have saved my daughter several times now, nearly meeting very unpleasant consequences for doing so. The way you danced with her, your mannerisms and candor, it all belies a sense of familiarity that goes past friendship." She raised an eyebrow, and he could feel the burn of her eyes on him. "Considering your… track record as it were, I'm wondering what you see of value in Emma that you would risk injury for. How do I know you haven't just poisoned her into a cursed sleep like you did to me?"

Killian gulped, and her eyes narrowed. 

"I don't know how to live with myself after I…" The pause was awkwardly long, but the queen nodded in understanding, encouraging him to continue. 

"Knowing fully, being unable to escape it in my cowardice by fleeing to Darkness - I can't do that with her next to me. Every action I took, the massacre I committed haunts me, and I carry its weight as I should, and as I have to. Most killed weren't even men; we trained green boys to go to a slaughter. I see their faces over and over without the ability to stop myself. I failed them, and I lost them. So many lost men, lost boys, all of them at my hand but not my will. I will never forget them. I can't forget that night or so many like it following the dagger's commands. I am trying to overcome this, to make sure that I am never a danger again, Darkness or not."

"Lost boys and men come back to haunt anyone with a part in the war, but you have to be first on their list. You say you had no control, and now you do because of my daughter's presence. Are you sure my Emma is not a crutch for you?" she asked. 

"She isn't. She asks of me to lay with her -" Her reaction was vicious and instantaneous, the blade to his neck back and closer to spilling his blood than before. 

"You've been intimate with my daughter? I should kill you right now for that alone and pray it sticks!" 

"I swear on Liam and his honor, I haven't touched her other than to lay beside her -" Killian rasped, pressed back into the wall. The queen was smaller than him or even Emma, but she was faster and far stronger than he'd expected. 

The sword jutted up harder, and he tried not to swear. 

"With no intentions more than soothing her from the shock she's developed."

The queen lowered her sword, looking surprised. She backed up a step still pointing the blade at him. "Emma has developed…" 

"She is unable to rest at all without having fits of panic in her sleep. It isn't my place to say, but she has seen more bloodshed than most nobles, even when I have tried to guard her from it." He rubbed his neck breathing hard, the queen biting her lip and looking aside. "There's also her fear of Nil, especially considering what he's said he wants to do to her."

"My poor… Oh, my Emma," she whispered. 

"I swear to you that I have no plans to have any sort of relationship with her after this. The Darkness will never allow it and I can't risk hurting her." He laid out his hands in a gesture of supplication, the queen sheathing her sword. "I want her to be happy."

The queen took a moment to smooth her dress and tuck in her sword under a bit of skirt. After the moment of silence, she spoke quietly. 

"You sound as if you have feelings for her, though."

She was as perceptive as Emma, staring through him like glass. 

Killian shook his head. "Only in a place where I am allowed to have them. I'm not as lucky in the waking world. I'm aware in both of my…" He grimaced, and clasped his hands behind his back. "I know I am far below the mark for who is worthy of her, even without her status, and I am very aware of my limitations regarding my curse. I carry the Darkness, outside of these rites. I can't be around her, I can't have feelings for anyone, let alone her. I also know my limitations regarding my history with everyone she holds dear. I would never allow that sort of pain for her. When she wakes, she will have forgotten this, and anything other than undergoing the rites." 

"Hm. Well," she mused, and pressed her hand to her cheek. "Let's see how Emma responds to these emotions of yours, knowing that you are under my watchful gaze and in great peril should you be anything less than her standards. You may be poisoning her heart and mind, as you sentenced me to sleep without waking. Although…" 

Her shoulders tightened as she opened the door to let them out of the dim study. He almost did not hear her whisper when it came. 

"Emma is a surprisingly good judge of character, except when it comes to you, apparently." 

He nodded. "That I wholeheartedly agree with, Your Majesty."

They walked back through the corridor and into the ballroom where Anna, Ingrid, and Emma looked up with surprised delight. 

"There you are! We were just telling the princess about your skill at sailing and the sword. She's never been on the sea, you know." Ingrid smiled coyly, pulling a goblet to her lips to drink. Emma blushed, and Anna curtsied at the queen who waved her off. 

"Anna, you never need do all that. Formality went out of our shared window when you brought ducklings into our dormitories and I somehow became their mum. As far as I am concerned, while David is my husband, you were clearly my first partner." Anna laughed brightly, and the queen gave Killian a nod as she pulled Ingrid and Anna away. 

"I take it my father is sulking somewhere from my mother's tongue lashing?" Emma asked, wringing her hands. 

Killian snorted at the truth of the situation, but pulled a chair out, offering her a seat. She sat with a sigh, playing with a leftover bit of cheese on her small tasting plate. 

"Something like that. He was just worried is all. My family doesn't have the best legacy -" 

"You and Captain Liam have fixed that legacy ten times over, and the Arendelle kingdom sings your house's praises! What nonsense! Why I -" Emma huffed, crossing her arms. 

"How do you know all that?" he interrupted to ask, looking at her as she opened her mouth to speak, then abruptly closed it. She thought for a moment, then pressed fingers to her temples. 

"I don't know, actually," Emma murmured after a long pause. "I know so much about you that I can not figure out how I have learned. Like I said before, it's like I know you." 

"Tell me something about myself, and if it's right, I'll reciprocate. If it's not, you know that you're just overwhelmed by your neverending duties to people who you feel don't care about the real you, but only as some figurehead ideal, and you have created some elaborate, imagined story for me." Her head shot up as she looked at him in shock. "You may find we know a lot about the other somehow, instinctually. As if you've known all along."

"How…? Alright. Alright then." Emma straightened, squaring her shoulders and locking her eyes with his. "You hate hot chocolate, even with cinnamon, which is a dreadful shame. You take Chicory instead, black as night, and like all sorts of bitter things. You don't like thunderstorms, or like things out of your prescribed order, and both make you tense; the former more than the latter. You won't admit that you enjoy dancing, but you do, and my theory is that it is a way for you to separate your mind from the action that is almost muscle memory. While you are very skilled with a sword, you are better with a cutlass that’s a bit longer, and better still with a pole, trident, or halberd. You know the constellations in the night sky as if they were friends you are describing, and can identify just about any fish or plant."

Emma paused, thinking hard. "In fact, actually - I think you're smarter than me, both in ways of the outside world’s workings which is to be understood, but rarer still, better read than me. What I don't know you do, and the things that have escaped your knowledge, I am well versed on. The only thing we both don't know is history, but that's because it's all based on testimony…"

Her eyes widened, but she stopped, her lip pulled between her teeth as her mind turned over what she'd discovered. 

Smiling, he leaned forward. "That was more than one, love. But, then again, you only pretend to like rules. Truly you find them suffocating. You love hot chocolate but also have a penchant for tarts, cookies, and cinnamon pastries preferably with glaze. You would eat granite rocks if they came with frosting on top, I'm almost positive." Emma laughed, then covered her mouth with a blush. He continued. 

"You lived - live within a precise and fine tuned schedule, reveling in chaos where you cou - can make it. You have napped in the library shelves to escape nannies, tormented Granny the cook with her own granddaughter just behind, and have played more tricks on visitors than you dare admit to. You don't like the idea of being trapped anywhere, but have accepted it as your duty. It makes you sad, but the thought of disappointing your family makes you feel even worse." She let him take her hand, and he could hear her breathing hitch. "You're a good person, and lovely inside and out. You have an uncanny ability to bring people together and find the silver linings in the world that others can't see. It may be frustrating sometimes to have to try and dissuade you from your efforts of playing savior, but you come out on top regardless."

"Captain," she began, slowly. He interrupted her with a laugh, and she raised an eyebrow. 

"I was never a captain," he managed to chuckle out, and she gave him a look of confusion. He squeezed her hand lightly. "Please - For you, it is always Killian."

She nodded. "That's right. You are - were - a lieutenant, but I don't… I don't understand any of this."

"You don't have to. If you don't mind, I'd love to see this world with you. You talk about it often and it would be nice to have a visual to go with your stories." 

"So we do know each other then?" He nodded and she smiled wide. "Do we - are we courting?" 

"Not exactly, but for all intents and purposes, here we have the opportunity to if you wish it." She blushed, but her grin remained. 

"What is 'here'? My home, the palace? Or -" 

He grimaced, trying to figure out any way to summarize. "That gets… It all becomes more difficult to unravel the further you go."

"Well, the quicker you begin the story of how this all came to be, the quicker you will be out of it." Emma smirked, rising. "I do so love a challenge."

"Alright. Then I'll start at the beginning, aye?" 

"And I shall do the same, come." Emma took his hand in hers, pulling him with her behind a curtain. Her body seemed to relax, the spring in her step more playful as she ducked into a corridor. "Let me spirit you away to my world."

She led him to the library while he gave parts of their tale, pointing out to him towering shelves and long ladders leading to hidden alcoves, although her favorites for napping or hiding away were the highlights in her introduction of the grand space. Conspiratorially she showed him the hidden shelf that she hid illicit novels, the descriptions making her blush when he read them aloud. 

"Devoted Acolyte and Priestess, Jeriline Clearbrook, has been devoted to her craft of healing all lost souls who wander through her temple. She serves as a perfect student of the Goddess Wü, her vow to preserve her maidenhood under the teachings sacramount. 

When a non-believer from the barbaric North Kingdom is trapped within the temple walls by the magic of the Goddess, Jeriline fears that a terrible cosmic error has been made. Kadejah is rugged, unrefined, and headstrong in his beliefs - especially his belief that he should be free of his cursed confinement. His interest in Jeriline starts purely to gain his freedom, but slowly morphs into something more, challenging everything they both hold dear and their very identities."

"It's not as trite as the description would lead you to believe -" Emma sputtered, but as he read a particularly wicked passage about the priestess’s seduction, she ripped the book away from him. 

"I thought it was illuminating, how despite their differences and the very Gods forbidding it," Killian teased, trailing a finger over the color that graced her neck, "Kadejah still managed to make her 'scream his name as he filled her to the brim with his massive -' " 

"I can't imagine why I don't remember you at all," Emma hissed, pushing the book back into its nook. "Such grand and supportive fun you offer."

His teasing earned him a steely review of their next stops, as Emma tried to regain her calm amid his flustering her. The great hall and grand stairway were beautiful, and as Emma relaxed again, she seemed to remember him further. His comments began to meet her own, their rapport beginning to follow its normal beat. In the tapestry vault, she lingered closer to him, watching him carefully as he smoothed out long banners and throws. When Killian met her gaze, she did not flutter away or panic, but instead studied him closer still, looking for answers he knew she would find. 

They spent time in the menagerie area where the royal collection of animals were kept, talking about everything they could remember about each other. When a topic changed, he brought up twenty questions or silly word games while Emma remembered more by the second. She stroked a bright yellow elephant, feeding it mango as Killian puzzled over guessing what his name might be. 

"Mouse?" he asked, and she shook her head. 

"Smaller, and more colorful, with almost infinite varieties." Emma stroked behind the beast's ear, earning a half trumpeted snort. "Think things that fly, but are hardy -" 

"Bird?" 

"No, but closer! Tinier still, although some can be large, I suppose. Same letter, and birds eat them." Emma shrugged. 

Killian snapped his fingers, sitting up. "Bug?" 

Emma grinned, nodding. She tossed him a mango, and he approached cautiously, Bug lifting his long yellow trunk to grab the ripe fruit. "I ride him every odd occasion, in parades or into meetings if I feel the need to have a dramatic entrance." 

"Well, he does make quite the statement," Killian laughed. 

Emma motioned her hand, and the elephant lifted him with ease, despite his yelp. After a moment he was seated along with her on its back, Bug carefully trotting down a hallway. 

"This obviously wouldn't be allowed normally, but I have always wanted to do this. My mother would lose her mind if she even got wind of the idea!" Emma giggled, and he laughed too. "I wonder how dream mom would react -" 

"She's not a dream, actually. At least I don't think so. Do you remember everything yet, or…?" Killian asked. Emma shook her head, leaning back into him. 

"Some things," she whispered. "I am dreaming, and so are you, but you and I have feelings for each other. I can control some aspects, but there is a great evil lurking. I am being drained of my magic, and it hurts terribly." 

"I am sorry. I should never have -" 

"It's alright. You and Lilly came in after me, but these dreams… They're remarkable in their realness. It's easy to get lost within them, and no one but us or a handful of others are cognizant of what is happening. The Other, Cruella and her different disguises, they're used to this place. It's giving them an advantage, and she's using that to try to keep you and Lilly away from me."

"Yes. You're under a sleeping curse." Bug stopped, and Emma hopped down from his back. Killian followed, Emma leading him to a familiar portrait. He took a deep breath, looking up at his brother painted so meticulously and true to life, it almost hurt. 

"I remember sitting here more vividly now than ever," she whispered, sadly. "I think this was the easiest world yet to let myself get lost in, truly lost in here. I'm a breath away from forgetting everything, especially if it meant having everything back, and you…"

"Your mum - the Queen, she may actually be here, love. She and I spoke," Killian swallowed, deciding to keep the incident with Cruella to himself, as not to unload too much at once. "She seems to be in here with us somehow."

Emma cocked her head to the side, looking thoughtful. "My mom was under a sleeping curse before, when…" She looked at him, then at her feet. "When the Goblin King made you…" 

"When I poisoned your mum? And it's any wonder she let me near you." He tried to laugh, but it caught in his throat. 

"Killian…" Emma took his hand, and smiled gently. "If she didn't ram a sword down your throat, it's a sign that she has a bit of hope for you."

He chuckled, unable to stop himself. "She tried. I believe that like you discovered, I'm much too much of a hassle to dispose of that way." Emma laughed, swatting at him. When he caught her hand, she led him away from Liam's portrait and outdoors. They entered a pretty solarium, partially shaded and hidden by a copse of willows. Stained glass peppered the ceiling and walls in different shapes, casting rainbows on the stonework floor. 

Flowers bloomed everywhere, pots and planters overflowing with blossoms. Emma walked towards the closed exit door, pushing hard to reveal an atrium of some sort, the door itself concealed behind a tall painting. French doors with intricate wood inlay stood partially open on one side of them, a sitting area and entry table in front of them. Another door lay beyond that, in what Killian guessed must be her bedroom. Emma closed the hidden passage behind them with a soft click. 

"This is my chambers, and one of the secret ways in. That solarium is usually fully hidden unless you know the way." Emma tugged him forward slightly, pointing at the artwork covering the passage. It was a forest scene, light streaming down onto foggy moss and wet leaves, the greens verdant and many colored leaves bright. "I was given this by a Contessa, who offered me so many different treasures. This was the only one that I found worthwhile, and truly beautiful."

"You have good taste," said a voice from behind them. They turned to see Emma's father walking from her room. "Must have gotten it from someone."

"Daddy! You scared me, what are you -" Emma attempted to take a step forward towards him, but Killian held her back. "What -?" 

"Ask him something only your father would know." Killian stared down the King, Emma continuing to look perplexed. 

"Um…" she began. "Let me think I guess - uh -" 

The King plunged a dagger through Killian’s chest, Emma screaming in shock at the sudden and unpredicted violence. 

"I hate having to keep doing this, simply because you won't listen, like a good puppy," Cruella sneered, twisting the blade before wrenching it out. "Wake up, and stay out."

The last thing he saw before everything faded to black was Emma's terrified face. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  
  


David N'lan was many things, even by Emma's measure as his daughter. He could have a ferocious temper, as it had been written about in legends of his fierceness in battle or noted in his proud family history as a raging fury passed down from his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather, brutal warriors who made their marks as Kings. Emma had not learned much about them outside of the ballads of their victories or heroics, her father inheriting only some of their battlelust, the majority apparently settling in his twin brother James moreover. Her mother had said that Emma had a calming effect on him, even more so than their marriage had. Unless either of his 'favorite girls' were threatened, the King was a fair, kind, jovial, and moderate man. 

Emma had seen him truly angry only in a few circumstances, usually after the majority of whatever had vexed him seemed to have dissipated. Graham was terrified of her father after his threats, and the few instances that Emma had been hurt or could have been severely injured by carelessness had drawn his ire. Emma remembered his silliness, laughter, and his love first in any situation, followed by his ability to find humor and be overall lighthearted. 

She had never seen the malice in his eyes, or the ravenous look of greed that curled his lips as Killian crumpled in front of her. Whoever, _ whatever _, stood in front of her was no father of hers, and in no way could be any version of him. 

Feeling panic try and root her to the spot, Emma pushed out an exhale, doing the opposite. The fear of what she believed wore her father's face still tore a scream from her, but it was better to do so while running than allow it any more time near her. She heard it scrabble behind her, but willed her eyes to not look as she tore through the halls. Killian had said that her mother was potentially here, and Snow N'lan would never have let Killian get far with Emma if there were any threats or she had any possibility of worry - a cursed sleep met both requirements. 

The flash of a reflection on the floor caught her eye, a sun spot bounced off a mirror. Following it with her gaze Emma made the quick turn as Cruella sounded right behind, and saw a great white and black dog creature crash into the wall out of the corner of her eyes. Emma barely kept her own footing, managing to grab her mother's hand as the giant dog-like thing shook itself and gnashed its jaws. 

Pushing Emma behind her and pulling her bow taut, Snow let arrows fly in rapid succession, Cruella falling dead in the form of a massive, wolf-like fox spirit, so close that their skirt hems ruffled with her last exhale. 

"Sorry I couldn't get her sooner. I'd hoped the Dark One would be more useful in providing protection for you, but -" 

Emma hugged her mom, wrapping her arms tightly around her and sobbing like a child. The Queen stumbled slightly but as she laid her bow and quiver down, she wrapped her arms around her daughter in turn, soothing her gently. 

"Hey now, hey my little buttercup, it's alright. I’ve missed you so much Emma, we all do. We’re all so worried about you -" 

"I'm so happy you're here, Mom. I love you so much. Are you all OK? Please tell me you are all safe and alive - everything is so messed up, I don't know what to do -" 

"We're surviving, and everyone is alright. Worse for wear, but alright considering. The Dark One said as much about things being difficult, if he is to be believed. I'm so sorry we didn't prepare you better, I'm so sorry for sending you here with him. I should have gone with you, or your father…" 

"I'm so glad you are all alive, oh Gods, I've been so scared! And yes, he is to be believed, he's… I trust him with my life." 

"So I've heard, but I thought it was one-sided, or a falsehood. I suppose that he was telling me the truth." Snow furrowed her brows. Glancing back at the dead animal, she pinched the bridge of her nose, and ushered Emma away from it. "Come, Emma. Let's take tea in the drawing room until either that thing comes back, the Dark One returns, or we figure out a way to get you free of this. I feel we may need to talk."

Emma nodded, watching Cruella fade away completely before standing up. Her mother led her to the sunny drawing room, its elegant doors open to a beautiful courtyard. They sat together while a servant fetched them tea and small cakes, both making small conversation. She found that she couldn't recall the last time her mother had been free enough to do something as banal as tea between only the two of them, let alone idly chatting. When Emma felt relaxed, her mother struck. 

"The conversation I had earlier, with the Dark One…" Her mother set her teacup down slowly, sliding the cup so the handle sat just so on the saucer. "You fell for him then, truly?" 

"That's what you're focusing on? Seriously Mom?" Emma exploded, exasperated. Her mother eyed her shrewdly, and Emma felt a rage rise in her that roared like a lion. She pushed it down, the uncalled for and frightening urge to smack the calculated calm from her mother's face too tempting after everything that had happened. "I'm hoping beyond hope that you are real, because yes, I did. He's helped me navigate through all of your mistakes. He's different when we're together, and I -" 

"Your father is going to go mad at this development," Snow said, using both hands to pick up and sip at her tea. She sighed. "This was not what I meant when I said destroy the Darkness. As for my mistakes, I am aware of my rash judgements in the past but they certainly - "

"Destroy? It’s not destroyed, it's still in him. He’s just caging it, he - "

"Emma. Do you know how we stopped him, and how we broke the Dagger?"

"True Love’s Kiss. It woke you from a sleeping curse. The Dark One poisoned you, his orders to preserve you for execution by the Goblin King. Father woke you as the Goblin King commanded the Dark One to kill you both -" 

"Our kiss shattered the Dagger, and stunned the Darkness. I could feel it when I was filled with that power, when the light hit it. The tiniest smidgen hung on by a thread. That bit of Dark is what is left, and it can be destroyed no matter how loud it declares it cannot. If you love him - truly, unabashedly, love him - and if he can put enough faith in trusting himself to love you with complete denial of the Darkness' pull, you could have a chance of True Love outside of this place. It's the smallest chance of happiness, but there _ is _ a chance to save him. It means you risk everything: you risk breaking your heart for his benefit, and I don't want that for you."

"All love comes with the chance of heartbreak, Mom. All love means risk, and all love is a dangerous gamble. You and Daddy were a gamble; he risked everything for you, and to give you that kiss. You risked everything by agreeing to ascend to the throne, becoming a singular target. You both took chances and ended up making decisions based on faith in each other - I want that. I think Killian and I could have that. I finally feel like I have met someone who understands the walls I didn't know I had built up. I love what I see when I bring down his own, and who he is."

"You've grown so much, Emma. You almost sound as if you know what heartache this will bring you, as if you can fathom it, or understand the lengths men like him would go to, just to use you."

"I do understand, Mom! I did grow up! I've been torn apart by this world and put myself back together only to get chewed up and spat out. I _ had _ to grow. There wasn't an option, alright? Killian, he has been both the worst and the best, and he is growing too. He's fighting for control for himself, first and foremost, and because he wants to be better. I wish you could just for one moment realize how much bullshit you've made me overcome!" Emma yelled, standing up in anger and knocking her tea cup to the floor. It shattered, and Emma let out a frustrated noise before taking in a deep breath, bending down to pick up the shards. 

Her mother looked appalled, but kept quiet, staring at her as if she was a stranger. 

"I'm sorry, Mom. I miss you so much. I miss all of you, and Father. I have longed for your counsel and tried so hard - I've had to undo and learn so much… It's been a lot. I… I don't feel like myself anymore. I'm a different Emma than you knew, and I am not sorry for that, just sad you can't see what made me change and why I am making my decisions."

Her mother's face was unreadable, the expression one Emma hadn't seen before: a cross between pensive anxiety and concerned sadness. Emma swallowed thickly, her mother a stranger before her as she had become a stranger herself. 

"I…" Emma began, and choked down the sudden feeling of intense guilt that flooded her. "I need a moment. I think I'll wait for Killian in the garden."

"If you're sure?" the Queen asked, and Emma nodded, the tone of voice her mother was using confirming her decision. When difficult dignitaries or events took place, her mother used that gentle firmness as an indication she wanted to be done, her tone to excuse herself politely. 

Emma nodded, armor up and engaged, knowing that this truly was her mother in her dreamscape. Only a mother could twist her heart like this, and still wring out only love. "Yes, I'm sure. I'll find you later."

Her mother left quickly, and Emma felt relief, which in turn only made her feel even worse. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  
  


Killian woke up with a start, the feeling of being eaten alive by the malignant Darkness, its sharp teeth leaving him stunned, like his bones were sucked clean of offal. He looked around for Emma and found her still sleeping, her pallor gray. She shivered and let out a tiny noise when he tried to wake her, skin clammy to his touch, Isaac's thrall still holding tightly. 

He let out a huff of frustration, his jaw muscle tight. 

"Bloody hell." 

He laid his head down beside her own, falling easily back into the curse. The Darkness resisted burning away, the tearing feeling of being flayed as the curse peeled it off of him like drowning in liquid flame. 

** _You will regret this whence you return. This I promise. _ **

** _I may not be able to stop you now, but I can certainly hurt her in this weakened state. _ **

When it was done, he stumbled into the dreamscape gulping for air. Emma was waiting for him in the garden, looking exhausted but stunningly beautiful. The breeze was cool, flowers swaying, the pink color of their petals dappled with afternoon sunlight. The cloak she wore moved to the side, her white gown showing a long column of neck. Killian took a deep breath, remembering himself, remembering her and Gods was that a mistake when the cloak fell away. It was a wonder that anyone could look at her at all in her court dresses, everything tailored to stun, leaving him in awe even with his bias. 

"You're back! I swear to you, that wasn't my father!" She ran to him, and he caught her as she examined him, checking to make sure he was awake. He swallowed hard, no, anything but hard, her hands trailing up the sleeves of his uniform. "I thought you left me alone in this place, I thought you abandoned me, and you weren't coming back - "

"Never. I'd never. If you have need of me, I will always come back. Did she hurt you? Do you know where we -" 

"Yes. Yes, we're in the dream, and I can feel I don't have much time. It's getting worse, the forgetting and them taking my magic. She tried, clawed me pretty good, but I ran. She's getting stronger, Killian." 

"I know, we are trying. We have to go through the nightmares soon -" 

"In case you fail, I have a request," Emma whispered against his chest. 

"Anything. We're going to get you out of here, but anything -" 

Killian’s shoulders tensed when her lips pressed against his, the sharp inhale of surprise that he was sure she could feel when she let them press together. His panic left it chaste and awkward, leaving her to pull away in embarrassment. 

With her face reddening, Emma stammered and stepped away. "I'm sorry. I just, I've never been kissed properly by you when we both - I mean, we both are aware and I - I thought that we were more than friends or companions or whatever we are. I wanted to remember, and if I was to remember anything it would be that. I shouldn't have done that, please forgive me." He caught her by the arm before she could escape, fighting back a well of emotion that ached. 

At least she would forget as she had forgotten him before in these dreams, all the imagined early morning conversations, her kisses and the way he always came so close to wanting her while holding himself back. Even against not realizing what was going on, and understanding this was all fantasy, he had kept his lust for more of her tamped firmly down. He had known on some level what he was unable to remember, that she was more, and that she deserved consent. 

The constants were now Killian finding her, and forgetting until it was too late - but always, _ always _, wishing this was real. 


	17. xv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's finally consensual makeout-ing! Rejoice!  
Also, this is a really long chapter. Really, really, long.

The constants were now Killian finding her, and forgetting until it was too late. Maybe a day would come when even he would be forgotten, and the feelings for him that were so confusing and wonderful would fade.

"Please let go. I made a mistake, and I - stop looking at me like that. Stop it, I don't -"

"Emma."

"Don't. Just - you don't need to explain. Just let me go and we'll never speak of it again. Please."

Killian laughed, shaking his head and pulling her back closer to him, and Emma tried to fill her lungs with air, tried to not acknowledge that she had ruined their closeness with a misinterpretation.

His voice was a low rumble in her ear that made her feel like her bones were melting. "Next time, tell me first. That way I'm not surprised by the lovely woman kissing me, and I can kiss you as properly as you like."

There was no awkwardness this time, just soft movements that made her lose her footing, his smile from catching her and groan at her hands around his neck like nothing else. Her own moan shocked her, the way his tongue pushed against hers, the insistence of every move showing a neediness that equaled her own. When her teeth gently nibbled his bottom lip, the noise he made was pained and she pulled away in worry.

Emma should not have been surprised to see him change so quickly, she had seen his moods with the Darkness, seen his worry turn to empathy here, but this was different. His hair was disheveled, lips parted, his eyes were darker as they searched her face for something she had no words for.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you? I -"

"No. No, you did no such thing, love." Killian’s voice was low, huskier, and he left her on wobbly legs when he broke their embrace to sit in one of the garden chairs. "On the contrary, this is torturous and wonderful. We should stop before -"

Emma pressed against him, legs on either side of his own as she had seen in the rare tawdry romance novel in her personal library, kissing him again, seeking that same noise as he gripped her waist almost painfully. "We shouldn't do this, hmm?" she smirked against the corner of his mouth, listening to his breathing hitch when she pressed kisses or nipped along his jaw line. She could see his hard swallows in the taut lines of his neck, thrown back as he sucked in air.

Gently running her tongue over his pulse point made him whimper, his body trembling. Emma had never felt this in control of another in her life.

"No. We shouldn't, this is - I want -" Killian croaked, and she rose up to take his face in her hands. His eyes opened to meet hers, half lidded and dark, the previously unacknowledged plea there she recognized now as want.

"I've stopped," she murmured, running fingers through his hair, making it stick up further, to her amusement. Leaning to whisper in his ear with warm breath, she tucked a piece of his dark locks away before teasing. "Tell me what you want, won't you? You have had so much self control in every iteration of ourselves, and I find my resolve weakening further by the minute."

"Bad form," he mumbled, distracted. "It's not proper, we can't -"

"That's why you only tell me."

"I - I want to court you as traditionally as we can manage considering; I want to look at you and know that you see me, that I'm enough. I want to take you everywhere you've never been, and listen to your theories on constellations that aren't remotely true. I want to dance with you in markets, and on beaches, and in ballrooms, anywhere that I can spin you in some dress that you make wondrously beautiful. I want to sleep with you at night and not be worried when we wake up holding each other. I want to read by the ocean while you try to poison me with your hot chocolate creations, and know that you'll understand when I have to watch the thunderstorms that come through, even if I hate them. I want to see you smile at me every day even if it's with annoyance. I want to hold you like this, whether you kiss me or not, because holding you is a salvation that I am not worthy of."

Emma stared at him, silence falling as she registered with shock what he had laid at her feet.

Finally, she breathed out a sigh. "Killian, I-"

"I know."

"It sounds perfect. I would if this was - if we _ could _ \- if I wasn't what I am - "

His face softened, pulling her so their foreheads touched. "You mean, if you weren't a princess, and I wasn't a ticking time bomb?" Emma laughed sadly for a moment, then curled herself into his chest. "If we were just Emma and Killian, spending their days in a seaside cabin."

"Watching the waves, and…" She breathed in, gathering bravery. "Maybe, just being a little bit in… Maybe caring about each other?"

"Yes. Caring about you a lot, Emma. I think that it's impossible after everything for me to not be… to not care for you. We're going to get you out, and you will have more allies. You’re so close to being ready to save your family."

"What about you, Killian? We'll find a way to destroy the Darkness and free you, I know it -"

"Emma, I looked for a way in the library. I don't think there is a way to free me. And that's OK, it's alright. When you get out of here, I'll be forced to take it back, and I won't feel anything for you. And you, you won't remember, it will be as if nothing happened."

"I don't want it to be like nothing happened. You and I make a hell of a team, but we're even more than that -"

"We will still make a hell of a team, and it's better this way. The Darkness will be vicious when it takes me back, and wilder than ever. It's been stronger every time I try to cage it, and it wants to hurt you. I can't risk that, and neither can you. You're kind, and beautiful, and so good - this can't work with the Darkness," he whispered as her fingers brushed against his skin just slightly. Emma tried to ignore the ache in her chest as they held each other, and wondered how much would go unspoken between them. Tracing letters across his chest under the buttons of his uniform, she lifted his hand to touch the top of her gown where the skin from her collarbone led down to her chest.

Killian pulled her hands away, kissing them pleadingly. "You must not engage a man with the indecency to hurt you… which I would. I cannot stand the thought, and you will be of my every thought if this continues further. Don't wound a man and send him limping to his grave, Swan."

"Always so dramatic." Emma rolled her eyes, ignoring his own annoyed huff. She put on an air that he had seen her use in the presence of her parents, stunted and overly polite. "I would despair to hurt you in any way, my good friend, and beloved Lieutenant. To wound you would be to wound myself, and how could I bear to see you fall to ruin and guilt for it? If you truly doubt and do not believe that I would find you under the layers of that _ thing _, know that as you have always found me, I will always find you Killian." Standing, she adjusted her skirts and bodice. He caught her wrist as she turned to move away.

"Stop it. You know what that 'thing' does. You know what it can do, what it does to me and what it shows me. I can't escape it when it's in my head, and I'm trying just to stay afloat. I didn't realize how much I needed sleep or respite from its screeching and scratching until…" Letting her go, Emma slid away slightly, looking at him as he sat to place his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. "If I hurt you, I'd…"

Kneeling to cup his face in a clear breach of station, not caring for it regardless of in a dream or in reality, Emma stared up at him fiercely. "You're so much stronger than it, and getting stronger every day. Please, we'll find a way. I will find you, and you'll find me. I'll hear you if you call for me, Killian. You just have to fight it, for me and for you. You say you won't care, that you can't - You are not the Darkness, Killian. It does not define you, and I know who you are. You know who you are."

"You can't be sure." He shook his head, and if there were unspoken things between them, she could find the answers to her worries or how he felt in the blue that met her gaze. An ocean of meaning, all for her.

"I'm putting my faith in you. And Killian, please tell me you will try to find a way for me to remember, to remember any of this -"

"No, Isaac was clear that you won't. I'm so sorry darling. But Emma, if a part of you does, being with you like this, being free of the Darkness, it was one of the best parts of my life even if it wasn't real. I want you to know that."

"Killian, I can't lose this. I don't want to lose you or us."

"I will remember for you, and keep you safe. It's better that way."

"Better for who, Killian?" Emma whispered. He looked away, and she stood slowly. "I still remember pieces of the other dreams layered on each other, you know. They're hazy, but I won't let them slip away, because they are so important to me. You as a pirate, you as a ruler, watching you from my tower as you raced across the desert before climbing to me, and all the other strange incarnations of you searching, trying to save me again and again. There's something to be said about the man so determined to keep someone safe at their own expense, and wanting them to forget they ever cared at all. I only wish you saw yourself like I do."

"You see me through rose colored glasses, Princess. The eyes of someone who thinks the best while ignoring the worst." Standing and looking down at her, he lifted her to her feet. Emma tried to keep her expression passive, but anger and hurt lit behind her eyes.

"I'd never ignore anything to do with you," she began, Killian laughing as she tried to smile. "I’m a fan of every part of you."

He made a noise of protest, but she held up a finger. "The Darkness is not and has never been a part of you, but even in its presence where it sticks to your bones… I am still a fan of the you that’s there, fighting and finding yourself amongst the wreckage." Her hand snaked into his, fingers intertwining with his own. Pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, she let him wrap his arms around her.

"Emma…"

"What I mean to say is, if I must forget, treasure these moments for me. Keep them close." Pressing herself in closer to him, she listened to his heart beat. His chin dropped to press a kiss to her crown. "If I can't keep them, someone should. And if you should find yourself missing me, or trust yourself enough to allow the slimmest of chances, find a way to give them back to me."

After a long moment of silence, his face buried in her hair as they held each other tightly, he murmured quietly, "I will, I promised before and I promise again."

Emma felt the tears that had threatened before slide onto his uniform, her shoulders beginning to shake as he comforted her. The sound of Lilly's loud voice broke their moment.

"Hey! I am telling you that I need to talk to the princess and her lover boy, and I know we're in a curse -"

"Save it. This gets crazier by the minute, dark haired miniature of Maleficent. Let's see if my subconscious is leaking in here too, shall we?" Snow asked, dragging Lilly into the courtyard. She looked at the two of them in surprise, while Lilly simply grinned broadly. "Am I interrupting something Emma? Darkness?"

"Mom, his name is Killian," Emma began rubbing at her temples. "And this is Maleficent's daughter, Lilly. Also, yes, you both have interrupted an emotional reunion."

"It's important, Cruella has put you under a -" Lilly blurted out.

"A sleeping curse. Yes. She told us as much," Killian said, irritation leaking into his voice as he wiped away Emma's tears gently.

"Yes, well, I went to look at the bodies of the other Kitsune in the crypts. They're not dying from trying to break the spell, Cruella is sucking them dry. She has a lifetime supply of energy with the husks just walking around -"

"And Isaac knew. Aye, Lilly, we know -" Killian sighed, but her mother spoke up with a gasp.

"I didn't know that. That's awful. If I had but known, I could of -"

"Mom, hindsight in your case would have saved us a lot of grief, but there is literally no time to deal with every aspect of that right now. We would need eternities," Emma gritted out, and Lilly giggled. When Emma looked up, her mother was glaring.

"Well. I suppose that I should help you then. Princessa Lilly, Daughter, Dark One, let us go to the library and I will work with all of you to fix my accursed barrier. We may come up with something yet," Snow huffed.

"Killian, it's _ Killian _ Mom -"

Lilly's eyes went wide. "Oh, Your Majesty, my mother would - this would change everything, you have no idea -"

Queen Snow hooked the young woman by the elbow, leading her to the library. "We'll need a cloaking spell for if you choose a Dragon's form, but as long as you still have thunderstorms and fog..." She paused and called over her shoulder, "You two have five minutes and then will be in the library." She gave a firm nod, then continued on talking with Lilly.

"Leave her be, love." Killian shrugged, watching her mother walk away. "It's not everyday your mortal enemy is pursuing your only daughter."

Emma immediately pressed herself to Killian, the kiss lasting a small moment in time. She pulled away only slightly, and whispered against his lips as soft as she could.

"I love you. You don't have to say anything back, you don't have to repeat it for my benefit. I just needed to say it because it's true and I mean it. I love you, and I am cherishing every moment of this until it ends, and will continue with any part that remembers." Emma kissed him once more, then pulled away. He tensed, seemingly stunned as she refused to look at him. Swallowing hard with a heavy sadness, he looked down at the ground.

Emma took this as the answer it was, any emotional reaction to his non-reaction pushed away. Stretching and cracking her knuckles, she prepared herself, ending with a deep breath.

"Now, let's go help my mom so we can get out of here, and help everyone in this ridiculous mess."

He smiled at her, their fingers laced as she pulled him to the library.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The creation of the spell with her mother, Lilly, and Killian’s help was surprisingly calm, each person serving to create a piece of the overlying structure that would allow cloaking and protection of the island from mortals, while also allowing the magic to reconnect with the elements it long sought to reach. Lilly's expertise lay in her species - as a Dragon she was able to connect their signature and the Kitsune's with a cloak that would hide them from prying eyes, or if they should venture outside of their island. A strong breeze, a sudden storm squall, or a deep blanket of fog would be all anyone saw instead.

Emma and her mother worked on the mechanics of it, the tedious process of webbing magic over an existing space, held in concentration and formed again and again like molding clay or sewing embroidery stitches. They bickered occasionally, the Queen wanting to press limitations into the lining in secret, minor charms that curbed power, slowed down slightly, or created elemental weakness, but Emma held her ground with Killian and Lilly's voices strong in opposition as well.

Killian gave suggestions on defense, and Emma's eye was drawn away from her work to her mother's consternation more than a few times. The flickers of his magic, untouched by the Darkness in this world, were a stunning shade of ocean colors ranging from bright cerulean to dark navy that bordered black. It moved liquidly; whereas her own magic seemed to be made of dust and light, his was like the crests of waves, or swirls of arching water that cast rippling shadows on the wall. He seemed relaxed, calmed by it more so than she had ever seen him when the Darkness moved its power through him in its jerking or static tendrils.

Even her mother was impressed with the defensive surround he created, a series of founts that flowed protection spells from various points and continued out into the sea, changing the current to turn away unwanted attention. It cycled around to be reused and rejuvenated as it moved through the island, splitting to spiral around the new barriers before meeting its start to begin again. It was as beautiful as it was functionally a masterpiece of magical workings.

"This is -" Emma gasped as she followed his notes, reading his spells that would control movement, flow of magic, weather tempering, invisibility, and more. "Killian this is masterful. I mean, it's just -"

"It is very well designed," her mother admitted, as if she was drinking something bitter. Emma smirked.

Killian laughed lightly, ears pinking at the tips. "I have had a long time to study magic, especially locked away -" He carded his hand through his hair. "I mean, I've read a lot of books and theory, since…"

Emma's mother sighed, and stood with a stretch. She finally turned and smiled her saccharine grin, playing decorum once more.

"Then maybe your imprisonment was for the best after all." Emma scowled, but Killian kissed her cheek, resting his arm around her with a soft smile.

He didn't look at her mother when he spoke. "I truly believe that it was."

Emma blushed, squeezing his hand.

With the spell done, Emma pressed it into her hand, leaving a scorch mark on her palm. The group sat in quiet, Lilly occasionally rubbing her head, wincing more as the time went on.

"Lilly, are you alright?" Emma asked, concerned.

Killian and her exchanged glances, his jaw setting in the way Emma knew now meant that he was upset.

Lilly lowered her eyes. "I think my body - I think I got hit in the head pretty good by Cruella when she cast the curse. I tried to protect you and Killian." She winced again. "I didn't do a great job. I haven't been able to protect you at all, Cruella has always beaten me."

Emma's eyes widened, and her mother shook her head in anger.

"You're alright though, you're safe somewhere, right?" Emma asked. Lilly shrugged, and Emma looked at Killian. "Surely there's something we can do. What if you bleed out, or you have a concussion -"

"We just have to hope that my parents or someone else finds me." Lilly fiddled with her fingers. "I think they put me in the crypts."

"Lilly, this is -"

"So if I disappear, or turn into a husk, please don't forget that I tried. I wanted to be a good friend to you Emma." Lilly approached as if she was shy, gently taking one of Emma's hands. "You were my first friend from outside this island, which might as well be the first true friend I ever had. I'm sorry I wasn't better."

Emma hugged Lilly fiercely, surprising the Dragon who stood stunned before returning it. When she pulled away, she wiped at her eyes, laughing slightly as Emma smiled at her softly.

"Why are you so good at this?" Lilly mock-whined.

Emma laughed, clasping Lilly's hands tighter. "Because, you are just that awful at it."

Lilly roared out a laugh, grinning ear to ear. Killian joined them, hand snaking around Emma's waist, the three of them enjoying their conversation until Lilly vanished mid sentence. Emma stuck up her chin in defiance, Killian rubbing at the webbing of her hand soothingly

"You know she'll be alright," he whispered, kissing her temple. Her mother glared, and Emma tried to feel any sort of sign that Lilly was safe, awake and alive to face whatever Cruella threw at them next, but nothing came.

Emma's mother coughed, and when neither Killian or Emma acknowledged it, coughed louder.

"Yes, Mom?" Emma asked, annoyance seeping into her tone. Her mother narrowed her eyes.

"I'd like some more time with you, to explain some things, as it were." Her dark brows pinched together, and she rubbed where they met with a sigh. "There's been some misconceptions and miscommunication -"

"Like how you turned a man into a tree and segregated an entire species for a political alliance with the Merfolk?" Emma asked, trying to not let venom ooze into her words.

"That's not - Emma -" her mother sputtered.

Emma instead turned further into Killian’s embrace, his body stiff from trying not to laugh, but also holding in his own quips.

"So, we just wait here for the dream Isaac created to end?" she whispered. He breathed out a puff of air he had been holding, nodding slightly. Her mother continued trying to explain, but Emma tuned her out. "And then what?"

Killian swallowed hard. "Then the nightmares will begin to soak into everything. You can't get lost in them, no matter how frightening they are." He gripped her hand, kissing her knuckles. Her mother's voice was growing louder. "You and I will face everything together."

"Any idea how much time we have left?" she asked.

He shook his head no, holding her closer.

"I want to spend time with my mom, and with you," she affirmed.

"I would be happy to oblige," Killian breathed out. "But you may need to spend the majority of it with your mother, because she is quite livid at the moment."

"Emma, are you listening to me!?" her mother asked, in an angry, but pleading tone. "You _ need _ to know this, you need to stop -"

"I'll see you after." Killian pulled away, throwing her an apologetic look. "Good luck, my love."

Emma watched him go, her heart fluttering like a bird at his soft endearment.

"_ Emma _ -"

"What! What is it, Mother? Do you have more bad judgements you rained down during war time to tell me? Another _ rightfully _ angry enemy of yours lurking somewhere, ready to get their long sought after revenge? Who else did you punish while serving as judge, jury, and jailer?" Emma snarled, whirling on her mother's surprised form. She felt drained, exhausted, and beyond frustrated with her mother's part in their current situation. "It's my turn for questions, and here's one: Why did you ever agree to be queen, knowing that you would be so terrible at it! Was it because you were put there to be killed? You didn't think you might actually have to rule effectively?"

Her mother gaped, silently, as Emma breathed heavily from her yelling. To her further annoyance she began to cry, and wished Killian had stayed if just to keep her from swaying or shaking.

"Emma…" her mother whispered, concerned. Emma's eyes snapped back to look at her mother's face, frowning at the tears mirrored there. "Please sit down. You - You look - Rest for a little while -"

"Don't you dare paint me as weak, Mother. Not after _ everything _ you have put me through." Emma felt herself start to shake harder. "Don't you _ dare _."

"I was just… I am just… I'm so sorry." Her mother moved forward, slowly, reaching for Emma tentatively.

"You should be," Emma said slowly, wary of her mother's apologies. They always came with a condition, a reason. Her mother sighed, and Emma braced herself.

"I know."

Emma blinked.

"You know? You know what?" Emma asked, shocked.

Her mother looked ashamed, tears openly flowing as she choked out words.

"We should have told you everything. We thought we were protecting you from a past you had no part in. I'm so sorry we failed you Emma. I am so proud of you, I am so profoundly in awe of the woman that you have become." Emma allowed her to come close, letting her run her own shaking fingers over the top of her forearms. Snow rested her hands there, staring at her with reddening eyes. "Forgive me for my many mistakes made in ignorance, anger, and youthful naivety, and forgive me for the consequences that rippled from them. Should we make it out of this terrible coup, I will review every punishment that we have doled out, and try to do better for all of us."

Emma swallowed hard, nodding through being unable to speak.

"I love you, my beautiful daughter. My little buttercup, my shining golden girl, made of sunrays and dawn's light," Snow whispered, wiping tears from Emma's face. "I - I should have done better. We should have done better and I hope to make it right with you."

Emma hugged her tightly, finally allowing herself to lean on her mother's frame, both of them wishing for this opportunity outside of this dream. Wiping snot from her nose after the long minutes of just sitting together, Emma cleared her throat to ask another question.

"I know you don't have much time with me left, but is there anything else I should know? Anything I should be aware of? Any advice or guidance?"

"Henry is trying to get to you. He is with his wife, and they can help you some. There is a secret Dwarven settlement in the mountains near the Baelfire Hold; we used it during the war as a safe place. If you get there, you will find friends."

"That's perfect. I hate that this will end with me not remembering it, but I'll tell Killian everything I can and -"

"Emma, before I disappear, I have to tell you what your grandfather did. If you do by chance remember, or at least someone does if we… What I mean to say is that I must play you as confessional as well as daughter. David should have told everyone, I should have, but David's family was… There was a reason you didn't know your uncle or your grandfather, or your great grandfather. They made choices that your father fought against. They did horrible, awful things that we had to reckon with - "

"That sounds familiar," Emma snapped. "What else has our family done that I will have to fix?"

"There's no fixing what they did, Emma. Those alive that know, they don't speak about it. We’ve wiped it from history in our shame, the few that seek vengeance cannot be reasoned with -"

"Mom, is this about the Goblins?" Emma asked, anxiously.

"Oh, Emma, it's about them and so much more. My family is not innocent in this either, the Whiteheart name bears its own stain. My father could have saved us from every bit of this, but refused out of fear. He should have saved them all, given them refuge when they needed it most, but David's father would have demanded retribution. I know this does not make sense yet, but I -"

Emma stared at the empty chair in front of her, the fireplace crackling the only sound in her mother's sudden departure.

"I love you Mom. I love you Dad. I love you, all of you waiting for me. Be safe, please, be alright."

Closing her eyes, Emma brought her knees to her chest, and let herself cry.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Killian found Emma sitting in her room in the middle of its large bed, the curtained drapes tied up, and light streaming through the windows. Beyond the tall separated panes of glass were a field of wildflowers that led to the river the castle laid over, and the forest beyond of tall trees. Between them, a fireplace burned, filling the room with a warm glow and gentle heat, a basket of blankets and chaise set up in front. Tall bookshelves and a rolling ladder offset the bed, a large vanity between two doors on the far wall opposite the atrium entrance. The rightmost door was wide open, showing a large dressing area and the colors of multiple gowns hung within. The leftmost had soft blush marble peeking out of the barely ajar door, in what he assumed was a bath.

He joined her in the bed, her sigh of contentness when he held her like a breeze in the far pines.

"Is your mother…?" he whispered against her neck. She nodded, leaning back into him. "Are you alright?" Nodding once more, she nuzzled into him.

Her room looked barely lived in, absolutely pristine compared to what he knew of her, all except for the softness of the bed piled high with pillows, collections of lumpy blankets, soft furs, and sheets that felt like butter against his skin.

"No wonder you like sleeping so much," he chuckled.

Emma was quiet for a long time, until she moved and nibbled at his ear. He laughed for a moment, until she pulled at the lobe with her teeth harshly, sucking on it to soothe the burn. Turning fully in his lap, he breathed in air with a loud hiss.

"I've never had someone in my bedroom like this," she whispered, kissing down his neck. Killian felt heat shoot through his veins to the place he was doing his best to avoid thinking about. "I wish you would reconsider."

"I wish I could, love." He pushed hair away from her face, the gleam in her eye strange, malicious, and hostile. "Emma -"

"I know, I know puppy," she purred, voice deeper, raspier. She feigned embarrassment, covering her body with her hands as if she were nude. "Don't. Consider that this is make believe, consider that it's manufactured no matter how real it feels. Purity and all that."

Killian pushed her, throwing her off of him just as black began to replace the blonde on her scalp. "You! Where's Emma?" Not waiting for an answer he ran out of the room, hearing Emma laugh unnaturally, a cackle ripping from her throat.

"Where am I?" Emma’s voice echoed down the hallway, followed by the raucous laughter. "You said we shouldn't separate, we had to stay together!"

A scream ripped from deeper in the castle, and he raced toward it. Turning towards the ballroom, he slipped in a wet puddle, stumbling into a wall, making paintings crash to the ground. Blood. Bodies lay strewn everywhere in various stages of flight, all running from the direction he charged toward. He heard Emma's crying, throwing aside curtains to get to her. A small sword lay discarded in a gory mess, and he emerged into the dim light of the ball room wiping it clean, passing the thrones -

"You killed them! How could you, how could you, you monster!" Emma howled at him, running towards him and knocking the sword from his hand. Unprepared for the attack and stunned by Emma's blood stained hands and dress, she knocked him easily to the sticky floor.

"That's right, I ordered him to kill them, and the Dark One always does my bidding," Nil's voice drawled from nearby, and Emma had the Dagger, the completed Dagger that bore his name, raised over him. He pushed back against her wrists, her eyes wild as she tried to bring it down on him. "He gladly serves, loves the taste of the screams and begging for their lives. Go ahead and kill him, Emma. Try to make him suffer for what he's done."

"Emma, love, this is a nightmare - remember that, remember that we have to stay together," Killian gritted out. "I don't want to hurt you darling, please,"

"You don't want to hurt me? You abandon me, then you kill all the people I love; my parents, all of my friends, the court, - You are only Darkness! You're the Dark One, you killed them all, all of them! Nil is going to pull me into the dark, and you will help him - "

"No. No, Emma, I won't. I -" Killian flipped her, the dagger clattering to the side. She shrieked, struggling with all her might, and he held her wrists down. "Stop, Emma, just relax and give me a moment to explain -"

A blur of black hit him and he went flying, Nil scooping up the dagger as another version of himself tried to run him through with the sword he'd lost.

"Kill this imposter, Dark One. The princess and I will be waiting for you in my chambers." Killian saw the floor open into an abyss, Emma being pulled in by some unseen force as she tried to hold on. She looked at him in panic, her eyes wide at the sight of the two of them struggling.

Not worrying about hurting another version of himself made it easier to disarm the nightmarish doppelganger, and Killian ran towards Emma, catching her before she fell into the dark hole. Wrenching her upward, she threw her arms around him, the floor falling away around them into the pitch blackness.

"Listen, the next part, the next part of this dream is awful and I need you to find me as fast as you can. Please Killian, I can't be alone with him. I'll be in his bed chambers, tied down, you'll have to find me quickly. Please, please hurry. The things he will do, I can't go through that again." Emma sobbed, clinging to him.

"I'm not going to lose you. It's going to be okay, I -"

"Look out!" Emma pulled him to the side, but the blow struck him just the same, luckily only leaving a gash in his side. He hissed in a breath at the feeling of steel against his skin as the other him laughed, Emma's fingers slipping in his hand.

Emma's eyes were so wide, her face so full of terror as he clung to a rapidly declining edge. "Don't let go, please, don't drop me. I'm so scared." Above, the nightmare doppelganger approached menacingly, and Killian felt his side burning from strain. Looking down at her, he nodded.

"Together?" he asked, and she breathed in deeply, stilling herself.

"Together." She nodded.

He let go as the doppelganger swung his sword down, narrowly missing his fingers. They fell, Emma gripping his hand, then his shirt as she pressed herself against him, bracing herself for some untold torment.

"I won't let him hurt you," Killian whispered, gently stroking her hair. "I won't, Emma. I -"

Instead of falling into the bowels of the earth, he felt clawed hands wrench him away from Emma. She screamed his name, the sound of a splash echoing as he hit hard against wood, the night sky exploding behind his eyelids.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

When she did not fall into the bed that haunted her nightmares, Emma was shocked, but the cold water that doused her head to toe was an unwelcome relief as well. She struggled to the surface, aware of the creaking of wood, the ropes she was tangled in, and the boat that was pulling her upwards. Coughing she tried to gain her bearings, but as the net was tilted and she rolled out with the fresh catch, Emma realized that no one on board could help her. Blurred gray mists moved around the deck, the air ice cold around them. Voices from below were raised, the mists not paying her heed as she hiked up her sopping skirts, trying to find Killian.

Heading below, the ship extremely familiar to her, she heard his voice clearly.

"So they have demanded their own realm? After all of this? What did the Lady of Whitehart say, now that she is to rule -"

"Snow said yes. It's a wise move in the long run, they want it designed as a stronghold: One way in which means that is the only way out, upper Goblin hierarchy exclusively. Snow recognizes the advantage that gives us in the long run. A stronghold can easily turn into a prison, or a tomb." The other voice was distorted, tinny and soft in places. It reminded Emma of the records Anna had played for her once, the voices on the discs played too slow by her on purpose as a gag.

"And what other news?" Killian asked. Emma moved closer to the open cabin door, peering through and blinking at the sight. The cabin of the Jolly Roger was laid before her, but different than when she had ever seen it. It was organized, pristine, and in the middle of it Killian rocked on his heels as a misty Liam sat in a chair watching him. Liam swirled a glass in his see through hands, and sighed deeply at Killian’s question. The only thing that had faded color, as if a candle was placed behind paper, was Killian.

"David N'lan brings news that the Goblin scourge is attempting to recreate an ancient weapon, used to summon a terrible evil. If it's true -"

"It can't be. The war those creatures have started is the most evil thing we have ever faced. What could possibly be more -" Killian snapped in irritation. A misty messenger herald the color of milk moved by Emma, freezing her in its wake, but interrupting Killian’s diatribe.

"M'lords, urgent news from the Blackwater. A Goblin raid, slaughter, they're pillaging our lands, they're raiding the ladies school, I… I couldn't…" The man gave a deep sigh, and fell to the floor, his misty form fading into the cold air.

"Milah!" Killian hissed, Liam standing at once to check the man's pulse. He shook his head, his fists balled as his shoulders rose.

"Elsa, the women, Gods! I have to go, Killian stay here and -"

"Brother, you are the captain, you leaving will cause panic. I'll go, I'm faster and I have to check on Milah -"

"We'll both go. I know Elsa is capable, but I will bring her on board. Hell, I'll bring her entire damn castle on board if she is safe. I can't -"

"I'll have her send word to you. You have to stay Captain. You _know_ you do." Killian clapped a hand on his brother’s back and Liam rose, turning to do the same.

"Get back here immediately once you confirm they are safe, Lieutenant. Do not risk any more bloodshed." Liam nodded, Killian returning the gesture. He moved quickly to where Emma was standing, oblivious of her. "And Lieutenant?"

"Yes, Captain?" Killian turned, looking at Liam. Liam faded, slowly melting away before her eyes.

"Be careful."

"Aye, Captain." Killian said, walking through her.

She gasped, feeling like she was falling from a great height, the world shifting as the wreckage of burning stone structures bloomed from what had been the cabin. Emma whirled around, spotting Killian running into a courtyard. Ice magic flew past him, freezing multiple Goblin targets into a wall like structure.

"Elsa! Where are -" Killian yelled, Elsa's mist like form appeared, shooting ice over structures that burned. Emma lost her breath at the visage, the heavy weight of grief suddenly renewed again. They had fought so hard to survive, and lost so much. The apparitions of Ingrid leading a carriage and two large horses into the space, and Anna jumping from inside and hooking them to the leads came next.

"We're okay, we're all okay Killian." Elsa grimaced, holding her concentration as she spoke, still pouring out ice magic from outstretched hands. "My parents are already evacuating the fjord, and we think Nemo has my brother at sea. We're going to try to blend in with the mortals in the north until this fighting calms. I'll send you and Liam a location when I can."

"Be safe. We love you, I'll tell Liam -"

Elsa interrupted him with a scoff. "I'll tell him, because I begged that idiot not to consign in this war, but here you both are! Go get Milah, tell her that she and the other ladies who are barricaded in the school should head north. We'll help them settle, but the Goblins don't fare well in the cold."

"I'll send her along shortly. Be well, soon to be sisters."

"Be careful!" Anna called from the carriage, and Ingrid gave a nod.

Emma was pulled forward into another shifting scene, as if attached by string. This was obviously not her nightmare, instead possibly a strange memory of Killian’s, but it made no sense. If it was a memory, it certainly wasn't nightmare material. There was nothing that made her feel frightened, no one being hurt, and he would find Milah holding down the lady's school. Unless…

A stone hallway rolled out in front of her, large wooden doors splintered as she walked through, pushed back furniture piled high against them. Killian’s voice echoed against the stone as he rushed down the hall searching for something, doors thrown open, some broken or ripped away from their jamb, others hanging by hinges. Fabric stuck in the splinters of a few; crinoline, lace, and taffeta ripped from gowns, red spattering both on the floor and on fabric. Emma’s breath caught.

"Milah! Where are you love?" Killian threw open a door that fell immediately aside off its bent hinges. The room was upturned as if a whirlwind had blown through. Glass crunched under his boots, books and stray paper littered the floor, the bed was a splintered and bowed beast that Feathers had burst from. Red pooled on parchment, loose on the floor, claw marks gauged deep into a canvas painting of blossoms. Killian made a choked noise, rushing from the room, Emma following as fast as her feet could carry her. Fire met them at the end of a corridor, and they raced through it, leaping out a window onto a parapet as beams crumbled behind them.

Goblin riders spurred horses below them while Emma followed close behind Killian, sliding down tile shingled roofs. Women screamed in the night carried over scaled shoulders, others in burlap bags, and others still were unconscious or dazed, too stunned to fight. Emma barely caught herself as they followed, racing on the stone walls and buttresses, Killian secure in his footing. It was as though he'd done this a thousand times, and maybe he had with how close this was to his home. They landed one after the other on solid ground, Emma stumbling as Killian leapt to catch a rider, pushing him off his horse. The Goblin tumbled from its mount, and Killian freed the woman who had been tied to the bridle at the front.

"Run, run and head north. Tell any other ladies you find to do the same. Be quick, and go!" She ran off with a nod, and he spurred his horse on, just as Emma managed to wrap her arms around his back. The jolt forward had her scrambling to grasp at him, his riding like a man chased by the devourer Gods of legend. He dispatched a Goblin seemingly for a weapon, and another to cut open a bag with his stolen halberd, a ginger haired woman falling free and thanking him while he continued his search.

Up ahead, Emma caught sight of Milah first, her bloodied head and dark hair bright in the moonlight. Time slowed around them. Killian raised the halberd, calling her name, chasing the Goblin pack. He threw the weapon with force, the portal opened up in the ground, horses rearing up as the Goblins grabbed their stolen treasures, jumping into the newly opened nothingness. The halberd sunk into the flank of a horse, the beast screaming madly as it flailed and kicked in agony. Killian barely avoided it while jumping from his mount to run towards the shrinking portal. Milah and her grinning capturer were among the last to jump, laughter falling away as Killian clawed at the dirt where they had been.

Emma stepped down from the horse as it brought her close to him, his screams and cries breaking her. She reached for him, but he spun to stalk towards her, pushing through her, and she fell again. Landing hard, wind rushed out of her mouth just as thunder boomed above her. Lightning lit the sky, and she could see Killian climbing up a rocky outcropping, another strike almost hitting him as rain pelted down.

Emma scrambled to follow, remembering his reaction to the violent thunderstorm at sea. Reaching the top, she could see movement on the summit of the mountain. A fire poured smoke, a figure chanting unintelligible words as lightning crackled. Below cannons fired on the cliff face, the Fae navy in its full regalia just like the pictures she had seen of that night - Oh _ Gods _, that night - it was those few days that led to -

Killian climbed desperately towards the top, slipping and throwing himself forward in single-minded determination. He fought wind, avoided flying tree limbs and branches, found foot holds in rock that could not shelve coins as Emma tried to keep up. A slick boulder pointed skyward, his feet and hands finding purchase with difficulty, but he pulled himself up, reaching up as thunder sounded from exactly above them, his eyes shooting skyward. There was a pause where everything seemed to stop, the entire world going quiet for a single piece of a second.

Lightning struck the boulder, Killian slipping backward into a mud puddle, landing with a heavy thud. Emma gasped, the rain pouring sideways, another bolt illuminating his prone sprawl as something greater than thunder exploded above them with a force that blew Emma from her perch. She caught herself just barely, but felt the air shift. Looking up, she saw it.

The Goblin King had his hands raised to the sky, an opening above him that poured out a spout of pure jet blackness, dark even against the stormy night. It moved, sinewy snake-like tentacles stretching as it pulled down into a groping mass.

The Darkness.

Another bout of lightning flashing blinded Emma, but when she blinked it away the Darkness was gone. Turning, she saw Killian shift up on his elbows as it floated in front of him. Words began to whisper in her head, the voice old and withered. It spoke like birds flying into windows, the creak of leather against skin in punishment, insects being crushed, the dying bleats of an animal in pain - it overpowered her in its hideous sound, but she had to hear its words, its promises and lies.

_ "I can give you your vengeance… I can help you avenge your lost love, and deal out punishment for those who wronged you. I can make you stronger, better, more powerful than you ever dreamed. I can destroy anything that should stand in your way, anyone who dares to defy you. Give yourself to me, feel the euphoria of everything you seek, every impulse and every anger met with my unstoppable force." _

"How?" Killian rasped out, his fingers outstretched.

_ "Let me choose you as my vessel. Let me give you immortal life. Let us do many terrible and wondrous things together. With you and I sharing your confines, we shall tear the world asunder with your vengeance." _

"I will. I will give myself to you." Killian’s hand was engulfed by the blackness, sticky strands of it wrenching themselves down his arm as he howled.

_ "You were a fool, the one who used to be Killian Jones. You were weak, and worthless." _ Killian’s body rose, the black mass tearing at him, attacking his throat and eyes. Emma covered her mouth with both hands as she shook her head, his choked noises making her sick. She prayed for this nightmare to end, understanding why it was shown to her. He fell to the ground retching as the voice echoed, _ "Now you rise as the Dark One." _

The sensation of a bug digging at her ear made her claw at her face. Killian did the same, the voice laughing as her senses felt overwhelmed, the urges of something unnatural pushing her in every direction, rage building and hatred growing with every breath. Killian let out a menacing growl, throwing himself up the boulder where he had slipped previously, his foot leaving a crushing imprint as he launched from it. The mountain top was so close and Emma pushed herself to catch up, trailing behind him by only a small distance.

At the summit of the mountain the Goblin King came into view, and Killian ran toward the smiling creature. A pulling feeling sucked the air from Emma's lungs, and she fell to her knees, watching as the King raised a glowing orange, newly forged Dagger to the sky. It steamed in the rain, Killian falling to his knees. The thing inside his head howled like a wild animal with its leg caught in a trap.

The Goblin King only laughed.

"You will do, I suppose. It should have been me, but that is why you come prepared." The King twittered again, stroking a finger along the blade as Killian’s name appeared. "If it can't be me, at least I control the one it is."

Emma felt nausea roil in her stomach. Killian's eyes darted toward where cannons fired from below, cracking against the mountain from the sea. His heart thundered in time with the storm.

"You and I shall have so much fun, pet," the Goblin King purred, holding the Dagger out in front of him like a talisman.

"Dark One. I command you to destroy the entire fleet below. Leave no survivors."

The words echoed, and the thing, the Darkness laughed in delight in the Goblin King’s voice, the sound awful in its menace. Killian took several steps toward the cliff and she stood to join him, surveying the ships below. Her hands touched his own but he did not notice or respond. Blood leaked through his shirt in full color, the wound on his side he sustained in the palace nightmare still there even here. Ripping at her skirt, she tied a few of the driest pieces she could around his shirt, pleased when they stayed.

Touching him had an additional effect. Now she could hear his voice, his pleading and begging to stop; that Liam was below, his brother, not his brother, anyone but his brother, his own life, not his brother's -

_ You already sold me your life, I've merely extended it. Sorry, Dearie. _

This wasn't vengeance, this was not what he was promised, this was -

_ You said you wanted revenge, your blackheart spoke true and called for its vengeance. Vengeance you shall have. The Dagger will take everything else, carve away all your weaknesses. The Dark One has no time for shame or guilt unless it feeds our purpose. _

The Dark One raised his hand, and fire rained from the sky, ships exploding one by one. Somehow she knew fire raged through Killian too, it burned everything but what it needed to ash. Darkness oozed into every barren space erasing all the qualities it deemed useless, all the qualities that wouldn't serve its purposes and the whims of its master.

_ Your brother died in pain, by your very hand. Milah will die tortured in ways that you cannot fathom. You have failed everyone. What do you feel? _

Screams echoed as ships burned, the Dark One floating over the massacre and laughing as he crushed former brothers at arms together. The storm cleared, survivors being killed with sadistic glee by the madman under the Goblin King’s control. As the dawn broke, Emma was forced to move along with what once was Killian; through the wreckage of corpses, the air smoky with ash, and the littered debris. The water was red and thick with blood, just as the legends said.

_ I feel… nothing. _

When the memory seemed to blur and she found herself again in the dark, Emma let herself cry from the sights she had seen. The entirety of knowing what had happened, from the emotions that she was forced to feel and the destruction, catalysts for so much bloodshed - it was too much. Killian appeared out of the gloom, and when he tried to comfort her, she flinched away.

"I'm sorry, I can't, I can't right now -" she sobbed, and he nodded.

"You don't have to be sorry. You don't have to even - I have no way of living with what I've done. I understand if you hate me. I hate me," Killian breathed out, looking at his hands. They trembled, but he slowly closed them, and smiled crookedly. "The worst part is that I enjoyed it. I enjoyed killing all those people. I enjoyed the power, and the destruction I could create. Every time it storms I remember that feeling in my veins and how good it felt, how addictive it was even as my brother lay dead below. I want it back, regardless of all the damage I did - "

"No. The Darkness wants that. You don't. You… I heard you begging for it to stop, I heard you screaming -"

"Are you sure? Are you sure I didn't? How can you be sure I still don't enjoy hurting and killing? It would be so easy to give myself in, to simply…" The bottom dropped out, his hand gripping her wrist tightly as she dangled. "Rip you apart."

Throwing her into the vast darkness, Emma fell screaming, landing on softness. She breathed out, hissing Killian’s name, knowing that they must have been separated. Moving to sit up, the bed creaked below her in the dark.

"No," Emma whispered, shaking her head. "No, no no -"

"Yes." Nil purred from somewhere in the dark.

Emma shrieked, throwing herself from the bed, banging around the room trying to find the escape. Yelling Killian’s name, a hand pulled her back to the bed by her damp hair, tightening the binds that haunted her nightmares.


	18. xvi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter is ACTIVE. Story Tags are relevant, as are Archive Warnings.   
Reader discretion is advised.

Emma stood next to him in the terrible nightmare that the Darkness used as punishment, his birth as the Dark One and his greatest failure all in one. Watching and scanning the sea for his brother's face, the knowledge that he died not knowing it was by the hand of his brother was worse than any death, torture, punishment, or any perverse mixture of all three he had ever received at the hand of his demented and drunken father. The Darkness always reminded him that Liam had died in pain, died confused, died in blinding violence. 

He felt her hand touch his, wishing he wasn't rooted to the spot and forced to relive this. Beyond that, he wished Emma had not seen this, even if she would forget upon waking. There was no way back from knowing what he had done, and seeing her horrified reaction was more than enough confirmation of that. When the nightmare finally ended, it faded to an eerie whiteness. Everything was still, thick with silence. Emma was nowhere in sight. The only evidence of her being real were the strips of skirt wrapped around where he had been sliced open. 

"Hello?" 

His voice echoed, the only noise in the vast space. There was nothing else to do but walk, hoping he reached a destination. As he walked, he noticed it becoming steadily colder as snow began to fall. It crunched under his feet, blending in with the white of the expanse while he fought through it. It began to grow denser and thicker, rising up until it was up to his knees, then thigh. A long moan came from somewhere nearby, his ears picking up a few other wheezing and strained sounds of suffering as he crunched through the icy snow. 

Slipping slightly, he fell forward and his hand met the icy floor he'd been walking on. At first he thought it was an icicle or branch, freezing cold, and his fingers traced up the limb to where it tapered into a hand and grasping fingers. He pulled back and there was a snapping sound, the face of a naval gunner he had shared beer with rising to meet his. Except Private Scott was not the ginger haired and freckled just turned man he remembered. Instead, he was gray blue, his eyes long since gone and only stringy bits of matted hair stuck to his head. His face was beset in wrinkles as he groaned and clawed at Killian, his jaw snapping with its few teeth. 

Killian flung him back, but the snow was breaking apart, ice cracking to give way to water below. Ships, his brothers at arms, and wreckage broke through and began to rise up around him, his instincts kicking in with full force. He ran, avoiding the shambling creatures as they reached for him, maneuvering as best he could until he came to a steep shelf of ice. The corpses of his fellow seamen made easy work of trampling through the snow toward him, and it would be only minutes until hundreds of them were on top of him, seeking their pound of flesh. 

Digging his heels into the wall of ice, he found footholds and swung up, managing to grab a strong ledge to pull himself up a few feet, away from the beginning crowd that reached for him. Not willing to test if they could climb, he pulled himself up higher still, his hands struggling to find purchase the further up he went. He was maybe 4 meters above the growing crowd now, the crest another 3 or so above him. Taking the chance, he looked down. The wraiths were no longer looking at him, but staring at a fast approaching figure that was surrounded by an approaching blizzard. They parted as he came near, the sword in his half bone hand immediately making him colder than any frostbite. 

Liam's half rotted face, with one angry blue eye focused on his perch roared the question he dreaded most. 

"Why, Killian?!" 

Killian began to scramble, hands searching for even the smallest bit of a crevice to pull up with, his feet kicking in the ice to create any foothold. He heard a sword connect to the ice below, and watched Liam gain a fast lead with his bone and steel. The men below began echoing Liam's cries of why, and Killian felt water freeze to his cheeks as fear of the situation over took his senses. Taking a breath, he tried to settle himself. 

Emma was in danger, and she was more important than letting himself die here, or fall prey to this terrible nightmare. He had to go. With great effort, he jumped and prayed for his hand to meet something, anything to hold on to. 

His fingers curled around a small raised edge, and he swung himself up, the next hold easy to grip. The top was in sight and he was almost there. 

A bony hand gripped his ankle. He looked down to see Liam's angry and disappointed face, his brother broken to the point of falling apart in front of him like wetted plaster. 

"Why brother? Why!?" Liam rasped, and Killian closed his eyes as he prepared himself. 

"I'm sorry, Liam." Killian kicked hard, the blizzard below swallowing his brother and all the many phantoms that had appeared. 

He reached the top, gazing out ahead. The snow was deeper still up here, but there was no noise, only the stillness from before. The wind blew in earnest, sending snow sideways as it began to fall faster. It became harder to walk, and even more disgusting was the realization that the icy floor of corpses had made his previous journey easier. With no purchase, he sunk into random pockets, sometimes as deep as his shoulders. 

He heard a tiny whimper when he was sure he would freeze. 

"Emma?" Killian prayed it was not another bout of the dead. 

The noise came again, louder. It sounded as if it was right beneath him and he began to dig numbly, pushing down to touch a smooth surface. Clearing it of more snow, he revealed a mirror's rounded corner. The surface was dark as he pushed snow to the side frantically, hearing the muffled sobbing clearer as he pushed. 

A faint glow emitted from what seemed to be the middle, and he saw Emma's bound form, while Nil - 

The nightmare she had begged to be saved from was worse than anything he had imagined, fury racing through him. Killian threw his fists down on the surface of the mirror, standing to drop himself as the glass cracked. Her noises through the gag were like daggers as he pushed at the surface, her whimpers while her arm muscles flexed in struggle making him desperate to reach her. The Nil her nightmare created stroked long fingers up her neck as she screamed, Killian roaring as he smashed harder with his shoulder. Emma stared away from where the creature pawed at her, unaware of Killian, unaware that he was trying to get to her. She had been so scared, and now he understood why she could not sleep, why she had woken up in screams. The ripping sound of her nightgown made him more frantic. He could hear her breathing through her nose, words and cries warble by the cloth bind she chewed at, the chains rattling. 

Nil yelled something, pointing from the shadows to Emma. The Dagger glinted in his hand and Killian saw himself, shrouded in thick black smoke put a hand over her mouth. Emma cried in panic, Nil's voice unclear through the shattering of glass. The Dark One below looked up with a grin, holding her leg down as well. Emma looked up at the Dark One, pleading, but he only laughed. Shreds of her nightgown fell to the floor, Nil trailing fingers down her body as she tried to squirm away.

Nil bent, long tongue out and glistening, just as Killian crashed through to land in the bed. Noise erupted everywhere, Nil yelling as Killian scrambled to free her, ripping away bindings at her wrists and pulling the gag from Emma's mouth. Nil fiddled with something heavy, lifting it in Killian’s peripheral, unable to see what it was clearly as he struggled with the binds. They seemed to tighten and move on their own like snakes resisting his handiwork. 

"Look out!" she screeched, and he rolled as a thick bolt wedged itself into the headboard between them. Nil cursed, Killian noting the triggered crossbow he was using as he scrambled to unshackle Emma’s legs, each chained to one side of the bed. Emma sat up and immediately struggled with the other leg, trying to fight off the Dark One's attempts to subdue her. Wielding the weapon, Nil pointed it at Killian. 

"Don't touch my play things, especially this one. I'll let you have a turn once I'm bored," Nil hissed, grinning his sharp toothed grin. 

The click came, the bolt hitting flesh with a wet thunk. The Dark One howled, Emma's kick to push him into the path of the bolt sparing Killian as he freed her foot. She panted in exertion from the kick, Killian pulling her through a doorway. Locking the door behind them, Killian barricaded it with tables as Emma slid to the floor with her knees brought up to her chest. The pounding on the door went quiet, the blue dim of early morning light flooding through the decorated windows revealing dust motes as their only company. Pushing a huge cake table in front of the door, he blinked. 

"We're in -"

"Yeah. The Arendelle's bakery," Emma mumbled, finishing his sentence for him. "This is my other nightmare. I have - there's a few, now."

She shivered, and Killian became aware that she was nude once again. He looked around for something to cover her with. His shirt was in tatters and wet, as were his trousers, they were a complete loss to her at this point. He looked toward the stairs and debated if he should risk Anna or Elsa's room. Emma seemed to sense his thinking. 

"Please don't leave me. If we separate, I might have to… I could get sent back to that place, to him, and I can't Killian."

Sitting next to her and gathering her tightly in his arms he nodded. "I don't blame you. I'm sorry - I wish I had known and could have done something for you besides making you feel safer." 

"I've always woken up before he - " she began, starting to shake. She looked fragile, more than breakable, the color gone from her skin. Bruises bloomed in earnest, and she bled from several lacerations that had smeared to dry like rust on her skin, either by her hand or… His blood began to boil. 

"Did he - in this place did he -" 

"Further than my nightmares, but not… Not that," Emma whispered. 

"I -" Killian swallowed thickly. "I wish I knew what to say, or how much I… I'm so sorry. I tried to get to you -" 

"I had no doubt that you were trying to find me. It's not your fault it wasn't fast enough," Emma whimpered. Killian stood, grabbing a tablecloth from the cake table. Finding the center of it and ripping, he placed it over her head like a cloak.

"It won't do for a societal debut, but we're past that, yeah?" he murmured, smoothing her hair and wiping away tears. "Can you tell me about this so we -" 

"It's about my failure. I failed Elsa, and how I fear I will fail my family." Emma sniffed, pulling the fabric snugly around her body. "A group of neverending Goblins kills Elsa in front of me, and I can't - I just have to watch, no matter how many I dispatch. I have to choose who is going to live, who I heal first, but they all die; something fails  _ or worse _ . It cycles through my family and I…" 

"Oh, love. I - Emma, I'm so sorry sweet - " 

"I want to give up so badly, instead of seeing this. I would have if not for you being here." Emma leaned against him, taking a shaky breath. "I don't know if I can take much more of this."

"You could, because you have yet to fail against any challenge I've seen you face - but it's no reason to press your luck." He smiled wanly but she did not return it.

Elsa's scream echoed in the bakery, glasses shattering in displays and windows. Helping Emma stand shakily, they walked together toward its origin. Just as she said, Elsa cowered as a Goblin readied his sword to plunge down into her chest. Killian tried to move but his feet planted him firmly to the spot rendering him unable to help. Emma moved instinctively, but was too late as she and Killian watched the sword push through Elsa, jutting out of the wound that lay below the blue of her dress. His voice thundered in the skies, calling Emma useless as she tried in vain to staunch blood. Her family joined the fray and soon Emma was forced to leave a still gasping Elsa to try and help another, forced to choose who would possibly die and possibly survive based on screams alone. 

Finding his voice, he yelled at Emma to come back. 

"It's a nightmare," He reminded her as gently as he could manage with the noise around them. "I know that it's horrible to watch, but help me find us a way out."

Emma nodded, leaving a woman that reached out to her in pain with a grimace. As she ran toward him, a blur of blue pounced on her. The movement was impossibly fast, a spider on its kill, giving neither Killian or her time to react. Elsa grabbed Emma, white braid going to black in places, while a red pendant appeared around her neck. 

"I WON'T LET YOU, I WON'T, I WON'T, I WON'T!" Cruella shrieked as she began to drain Emma again. Killian raced toward them, Cruella giggling as Emma's makeshift dress changed into an ivory velvet one. Her red nails dug into Emma's skin, as Cruella was held back, Emma's arms buckling by the second. A glass coffin rose around her as they fought, Cruella thrown off of her by a kick squarely planted against her chest. Emma fell backwards in the velvet lining as her chest bled through the ivory gown, his feet too slow while this memory resurfaced, the players changed. 

Instead of the would be Queen Snow in her cursed slumber, Emma struggled in the coffin as green smoke grew around her. She shook her head as it bared down, until her breath rushed out despite her attempts and she drew in the plume through her lips. It seemed to flood into her as Cruella began her cackle, rising to push it into her as Emma's back arched. Her chest filled with it, and she went into a stillness that echoed her mother's, a scene that played out so long ago. Where Cruella loomed, the Goblin King had stood to strike the would-be queen, Snow Margueryte, dead. He had watched David N'lan, Prince of the Forests of Fae, come to her aid from behind the shocked Goblin's back as the Dark One. It was where he had felt the shattering of the Vorpal Dagger, where True Love’s magic had blinded him with its sheer power, and where it had almost destroyed the Darkness as it shrieked in his ears. 

Emma's chest did not rise as Cruella grinned wide, her hand raised high with those sharp talon-like nails glinting as she readied them to strike. Even with a few missing, they looked vicious, razor like. He ran, ran as he had seen the King do in the past, and with what he hoped was the same determination. 

Emma wasn't breathing. He had to save her. He'd do anything, anything to save her, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she would do the same and he felt his breath catch at the thought of her not opening her eyes - 

Light flooded through him when his lips touched Emma's, her gasped breath parting them and causing a great exhale. Cruella shrieked, shielding her eyes as she seemed to burn away, leaving in her place only a tendril of green smoke over a pile of black gunk. 

It reminded him of the Darkness as it hung on just barely under the same brightness, digging itself in but leaving its vessel stunned and leaving its powers wrecked. When Killian woken long after the marriage of the new rulers, it was to a cave cell filled sparsely with items, a sentence to be carried out until the world ceased turning. The Darkness had begun its careful planting of seeds once more, forced to drive out every part of the man that might return in its now weakened state. It broke him, belittled him, bent him as the seasons changed. Centuries passed. It was a tortured existence, falling into madness instead of sleep or rest, only being forced to relive the worst of his emotions. He lost all hope in that cell.

He knew this nightmare ended differently, now. 

A princess had made her way down the carved stone steps, and given him a chance at something greater than the nightmare could ever be. She gave him the chance to find himself again in this dream world, and to save her life. It would never be enough, and he would save her life as many times as he could. 

"I knew you felt the same," Emma whispered, his forehead lowering to rest against her own. "I don't need your words. Even if I don't remember, even if I forget all of this… Part of me will always know that our love could be true."

"I wish that I could give you this." He stroked her cheek. "You deserve this."

"So do you, Killian. More than anyone, so do you." Emma kissed him chastely, his hand finding hers to carefully lift her from the coffin. A movement caught his eye, and he pushed her behind him.

The strange viscous black slime Cruella left behind lurched, growing larger as it gained mass rapidly, forming itself as an entity that swirled in wet blobs to fill itself. The giant creature took on a lumpy shape, arms and legs sticking out in strange places as it moved. A husk mask appeared on its face, a mouth opening in a grin that showed its mismatched teeth. Lilly's description of the creature Cruella had brought to life was apt. The hungry ghosts happily took the place of his Darkness, boiling themselves into the original shape it had once worn, his last nightmarish fear realized. It would come for him, own him once more - and he had to let it. 

The Darkness roared in the voice of the ghosts, its bubbling body devouring the land like molten lava. Claw like hands dug into earth as it pulled itself forward. 

Emma tried to hold him back from retaking it. "Don't go. We can fight it. It isn't even your Darkness, it is that thing, that starved thing! Please, we'll figure out some way for us to -" 

"I have to. If this is a nightmare,  _ my nightmare _ , let me keep you from it."

"But - Killian, I -" The hillside cracked, Emma barely moving in time as the cliff fell into the sea, both of them running towards the sand of the seashore. The Darkness howled, right on their heels as Emma was thrown to the sand and he was lifted by needle sharp fingers. He could hear Emma screaming, but couldn't see her face, the Darkness filled his vision as it tossed him into the roiling mass.

Hateful eyes surveyed him while deft hands stained black pulled him apart to press the cracks with themselves, the Dark Ones from all times and all places wrapping around him, the beaten and abused spirits that hungered for anything to fill themselves with, breaking bones to knit them back together with their damned souls, and he was gone, pushed deep below in dark waters. Murk and brackish waves above let no light in, the water forcing itself into him, Darkness everywhere, mocking him as it flexed his fingers. 

"No, no, no." His voice and not, duality that made him sound amused as he laughed and stalked towards Emma. She scooted back on wet sand, but his hands flicked in a come hither gesture, dragging her towards him. "No," it cooed in his voice. "My hands. Our hands. Our magic - do you see worm, what we could do if only we were free?" 

_ I don't want this, I don't want any of your reckoning - _

"Yes you do. Let's see. I know, let's sweep your lady love off her feet, shall we?" Another flick of his wrist and Emma was in the air, struggling and gasping. 

_ Stop, stop it, leave her alone! _

"Does she hold your heart? Is that why you are so attached to her?" the Darkness asked, curiosity laced in its voice. 

_ I -  _

"Rhetorical question you simpleton, The Dark One doesn't have a heart. So, why don't we hold hers?" Emma was before him in a moment, toes dragging against the sand as she struggled with the grip on her neck. "I hope you don't mind, darling, but I am not taking the rings off. So much for being gentle." 

There was no time to process, his hand plunging through her skin, right into her chest, her body trembling as her struggling stopped at once. Emma's eyes were so wide, her mouth parted in a gasp of pain as his fingers closed around her heart. It thumped wildly in his grip as he tugged, the whimper that she made like a poker through his own. 

_ Please stop, please, please don't hurt her. _

"Oh, but don't you want to hurt her?" The Darkness pulled her heart from her chest with a grin, Emma crying out and falling to her knees. The heart,  _ her _ heart, was warm in his palm, now beating wildly as she searched his face. A tentative squeeze made her lurch forward, one hand plastered against her chest. 

Emma choked out his name, and revulsion filled him. He couldn't speak or form words for fear of what it would do as it tutted at his reaction. 

"Oh, you weak little man. You know this feels good. It feels right, you have so much power in your grasp! We control her!" the Darkness hissed in triumph. 

"You don't control me," Emma rasped. "You barely control Killian. You're a parasite."

Emma's defiance had him screaming, pulling against the Darkness with no success, its power too much as he yelled with only it as an audience. 

_ Don't hurt her, hurt me, do what you want to me, but please don't hurt Emma. Please not Emma, stop, please - _

The movement was quick, but her reaction was slow. The Darkness squeezed her heart in one sharp jerk, the red glow brightening before his fingers curled around and it was dim.

"We'll see about that, won't we?" 

_ I beg you, please, please don't -  _

His hand resisted for the briefest moment, but the Darkness fought his control with a vengeance. His influence fell away, the Darkness gleefully squeezing without pause. There was a pop, just a tiny noise of pressure. Emma's mouth moved but if she spoke he couldn't hear, couldn't hear last words if she had any because of the cackle of this thing inside him that took and took - Dust fell through his fingers, laughter that was not his own filling the space as Emma crumpled. 

Killian screamed without stop, in control again as he crawled to her side. Emma looked peaceful, so peaceful, as if she was only resting next to him like so many times before. She wasn't dead, couldn't be gone, no - it was too much. Rage filled him, followed by a flush of shame and self hatred that the Darkness multiplied. This was his fault. He was weak, he fell for the pitfall of caring about someone. Every time he cared for someone they ended up hurt, and in his selfishness, he had forgotten. 

The Darkness was him, his veins coated with its power. They were the same, the same fury and the same hatred that lashed out at others. How had he forgotten? There was nothing left of him from before, not even a scrap. This dream turned nightmare was never to be, impossible in their reality. 

Nobody could care for the Darkness, and the Darkness did not, could not, care for another without consequences. What use was this memory, any of their memories, the moments of tranquility where they were together, when the ending would always be a reminder of his fate. 

"That's right, that's right you insolent and dreaming imbecile. You thought you could be happy, that you could escape me even in dreams? You signed up for this. You know how wonderful it is to be free, to take, to plunder. You know our rightful place is wherever we can destroy the most light."

_ Yes. I know. I only destroy, I only bring despair. _

"Good, good. We only bring  _ desecration _ . We crush everything in our path and snuff out anything that dares defy us. Even your princess." 

_ She was never mine.  _

The dagger was warm in his palm and warmer still pushed roughly into his chest. It should not be able to hurt him in his own hands, but here in this nightmare it let him extricate both himself and this power. It showed him its dreams, of screams and chaos and fire and smoke. Emma was never there, no, he was alone with his madness as it should be. Their connection further sealed, no longer Killian or the Darkness, the Dark One faded into the waking world. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Your boyfriend has quite the nightmare, princess," Isaac drawled, nodding as Emma stood up from where she was left and began dusting herself off. Killian had thought her dead, but just as before, she was unable to escape from her prison by death at the hands of another. 

When she didn't reply, he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "I still don't know how you both figured it out so fast, and destroyed it even faster. This was a paradise for you two. You could have gotten lost, had thousands of happy endings, of growing old, having children, getting married. It could have been great, perfect even -" 

"Isaac, you don't get it, do you?" Emma motioned to where Killian had crumpled moments before, a sad smile gracing her features. "I know that he is real. Not everything can be perfect, can be sunshine and smiling and rainbows. That isn't love. Love is seeing the best in someone despite the worst, and love is holding them to be better. It's not you changing them, it's holding the person accountable for their own actions. It’s letting them grow into something better than what they were before. Only they can change, and only if they want to."

"But these were your dreams, they were your wishes, both of you! Why would you pass up living out your fantasies?" 

"Besides you siphoning off my magic and making me an amnesiac husk?" 

Isaac shrugged. "Fair." 

"As much as I… As much as we wish things were different, or dream that we met under different circumstances, it does not change our reality. I want that reality, I want the mess, and the broken pieces, and the hurt. It's real, and it's imperfect, and the imperfection of it makes it so much more. Both of us have walls, have fears so great that the deepest ocean couldn't contain them. We both are forced to be something, we both have to choose, and I can see now how much it must hurt him. This wish to be who he was before? You can't go back to before, you can only go forward. I want to go forward knowing that he's fighting for us, fighting for himself, through what feels like impossible odds. I have faith in him, and I know that he has the strength to win against that monster."

Isaac shook his head. "It doesn't matter in the end. You're free. As long as you wake yourself up calmly, this dream finally ends." With a final impish shrug he disappeared, waiting for her to wake. 

Emma walked towards where Killian had fallen, his hand still clutching the dust of her heart. 

"You absolutely ridiculous fool. You got me through this, losing yourself so I could make it out of here." Tears came unbidden as she propped him up gently. "How many times did you try and save me at the expense of your own soul? I promise, I swear, I will always try to find you underneath all of the Darkness. I choose to see the real you, the good, even if I don't remember. I will always find you, Killian. Don't give up just yet. There's not a day that will go by where I won't think of you, won't try to remember who you are. "

Emma pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, then stood to dry her tears. The tide had slowly risen and now lapped at Killian’s boots, the hem of her gown wet. Lilly appeared to her right, and Emma regarded her with a nod. 

"You don't have to do this Emma. I was - you don't have to -" 

"Lilly, I am choosing to see the best in you too." Emma plucked a stone from the shore, its smooth face cold from the water. Taking a deep breath, Emma pressed everything she had into the rock, pouring out her magic to weave it into the spell they had created to break the barrier. Giving up the remainder made her feel weak and empty, but anything to protect it from Cruella was worth it. It glowed fiercely, warm in her hands. When she could give no more, she pressed the rock into Lilly's palm. "Do what is right." 

Lilly stared down at her feet, the tide now brushing their ankles. Killian’s body was gone, the impression in the sand almost completely devoured by the waves. 

"I'm so sorry, Emma. I should have never, I mean -" 

"You did what you had to do to protect your family. Your people." Emma took a dizzy step forward, and then another. "I don't begrudge you. Now you have the chance to do something good, to expose Cruella and her lies. Don't waste it." 

"What will happen to the husks, and the Hungry Ghosts?" 

Emma stopped, looking out over the water. "I don't know," she admitted, letting her shoulders drop. "I want to hope for the best, that some will return once Cruella is taken care of and the barrier is gone, but I honestly don't know."

Lilly nodded, and was gone. 

Emma kept the slow, steady pace as she walked further into the cool depths, sighing as the water began to hold her weight. Her body felt exhausted, so weak and tired to the bone. There would be no swimming, there was barely a shuffle of her feet. She could no longer see where Killian had lain, and soon could barely see the waves as they hit her face. Her feet no longer scraped the sand, but she pressed on, letting the water take her under like an old friend's embrace. There was nothing more to fear, no more nightmares to face. They had won. She should be happy, she shouldn't feel like she was losing a part of herself against her will. 

The ocean was blue, giving comfort by way of reminding her again who she was losing. 

Light greeted her, the form of a door rising from shimmering fog, a gentle knocking coming from the other side in a pattern. Three long wraps, and four consecutive short bursts of quick knocks, something she hadn't heard since childhood in the palace when they played on their secret missions - 

"Henry?" she asked, pulling open the door. On the other side, Henry greeted her in the form she had known him in the longest, the small boy with eyes far older and wiser than they should be. 

"Are you Emma, Princess of pranks on poor, unsuspecting, dignitaries?" he asked cheekily, and she swept him into a hug. "Okay, please, okay - this is really weird when I can only see your energy. Please stop."

Emma set him down, and then confusion set in quickly. 

"How are you here in the dreamscape? Are you part of a nightmare? Where is Killian, is he -" 

"Whoa. Whoa. Time out." Henry moved his hands in the form of a large 'T'. "I have no idea where here is, I just assumed you were dreaming, so no, and no. Regina helped me escape the palace with Jacinda. We came to help you if we can. As for Killian, I have no idea of the Dark One's location, is he pursuing you? Are you safe?" 

"I'm safe, well, I will be. Is everyone alright at the palace? I think I might have talked to my mom, but I don't know if anyone else is okay, and it's driving me mad. It's been… It'll be closer to a year -" 

"Time is screwed up without us elementals, holy… No, there only a fortnight has passed. Almost a year? Frigg this is going to take forever to clean up." He ran his hand through his hair, in a decidedly stressed out adult gesture. "Last time I saw your mom was a week ago in this realm's time, when we escaped. As of then, everyone at the palace was doing the best they could. We were all confident of your success."

Emma winced. "I wouldn't say success. It's been… It's been difficult. Killian and I have rallied a few to our side, but they are currently cleaning up more damage from our visits than being in a position to help…"

"Oh Emma, I wish you had a better companion who could actually help you navigate through the proper decorum -" 

"Oh, no, you misunderstand. Killian is amazing at that, most of the courtly attitudes are completely different now than before. I mean, I am on Selune Island under a sleeping curse currently, because a Kitsune has been stealing magic from her people for herself to escape the wards."

There was a long pause, Henry simply staring at her and chewing his tongue as if it might bleed words. 

"Well then."

"It's been… Yeah." Emma laughed. "Let me say that my mother's way of doing things has had more consequences than none. Killian has helped to show that I will not follow in her footsteps. He helped me make a ward spell that will keep the island safe while allowing the denizens freedom to leave under the guise of inclement weather. It's genius, he's brilliant actually - "

"Oh my Gods, Henry," a woman's voice said in a tone of disbelief. "She's in love with the Dark One?"

Henry visibly stiffened, his eyes shutting as he grimaced. "Jacinda," he hissed out, "You should not eavesdrop -" 

Emma sighed. "She's right. It was an accident, and I beg of you to help me now that you're here. I'm going to wake up soon, and when I do, I won't remember any of this. I fell in love with the man surviving with the Darkness and I believe he is there, we just have to get that thing in control. I don't want to forget, I can't lose him again."

"Again? What happened under this sleeping curse -" Henry began, but Emma continued. 

"When he wasn't in the dreams I had, or they took him from me and hurt him, I felt like I couldn't breathe. It made me feel like my chest was cracked open, my heart actually breaking. That was in dreams, I can't imagine that pain in reality. I walked into the sea to get away from the nightmare of losing him, I don't want to wake up to another. Please Henry. I beg of you."

Henry shifted uncomfortably, and in a blink was a man standing in front of her. "Oh, Emma. I am so sorry. I don't know if I can -" 

"I can." The raven curled beauty appeared next to him, very heavily pregnant, kissing his cheek. "Regina helped get us free, and my magic came roaring back. I could use a challenge to make sure it still works, and as you can see, Astral projection and dream magic is my forté. Much less boring than time magic, too."

Henry grinned, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Jacinda, you outdo yourself. Let me help anyway I can."

There was a bright flash that left Emma stumbling with her eyesight stolen, and after a few moments Henry's voice sounded above her. 

"Jacinda says - She says you should remember now, but it will take a bit of time," Henry paused, and made a small clucking noise of concern. "Actually more time than that -" 

Jacinda's voice covered Henry's murmurs, full of worry. 

"Emma what did you do?" 

"Jacinda says that you are weaker than you should be - " 

Jacinda interrupted, voice frightened. "Far weaker is an understatement. Something is growing in you, I've never seen anything like it before. It's as if it's made of a dark hatred." 

"What does that mean?" Emma asked, her blood running cold. 

"Listen, stay calm. We will find you. Get to Agrabah, it's accessible from there through a portal in the sea. Hurry, by then you'll be pushing it, deteriorating quickly most likely. Gods, Henry, she won't remember this until it's too late -" 

"Emma." Henry's voice was serious, but reassuring. "Some type of creature, a vampire, lich, or other magic eating beast has been drinking from you heavily and has left you poisoned with some foul parasite. It's larval right now but it's going to get worse as it steals your breath and slows your heart. We can't hold this much longer, but get to Agrabah. Don't waste any magic, and try to remember to stay calm. We will find you."

"Cruella. She's the one who cursed me, she's a Kitsune. Henry what do I do - if I don't remember, how will I know?" Emma asked, panicking. 

"I hope you are right, and that there's a man underneath that Darkness. You're going to need someone's love and attention to keep you alive until we can get to you," Henry said grimly. 

"He does, I'm confident that he will be able to fight for me. I promise, I'll see you both again -" 

"Of everything, remember this: You must get to Agrabah, you will remember, and the Dark One holds your fate."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･

Emma blinked awake, air rushing into her lungs. Everything was too bright, her limbs too stiff, voices too loud as she tried to focus on two that seemed important. The first was growing weaker, a steady whisper that she could barely hear. It glinted like a lost treasure as she turned it over in her mind's eye. 

_ Get to Agrabah. You will remember. The Dark One  _ \- 

The other voice she held in focus drowned out the end, his raspy words and calloused hand on her cheek grounding her in reality. He shook her slightly and she groaned out a noise through her parched throat. 

"Emma, princess, are you awake, please wake up -" 

"Killian." Her mouth was dry, tongue like sandpaper. "Please stop that immediately."

He laughed, hugging her tightly, and the other voice fell from her lips in a whisper. The words were not the same, but she thought she might be close. 

"Get to Agrabah. Remember the Dark One." 

"Hm?" Killian asked, pulling away. 

Emma held her pounding head in her hands, finally looking up at him when she had taken a deep breath. 

"We have to get to a place called Agrabah."


	19. xvii

The princess woke in his arms as the Darkness rumbled its nefarious promises from before, unaware of his protected feelings of relief and happiness. She lived, she was whole, they had won, and she had forgotten that he had loved her with every bit of himself, his true self, before it could be corroded away. 

Then she spoke, her voice dry and hoarse from disuse, and she had said that she must  _ remember _ him. Remember him as the Dark One. 

_ Oh, isn't that interesting? Maybe you crushing her heart - killing her, remember? You killed her, by grinding it to powder in your palm - is worth remembering after all. Isaac did say that she would only forget the dreams… He said nothing about the nightmares.  _

Killian pulled away, looking at her with confusion in a bid to hide the paralyzing fear that he felt. He managed a noise, but she moaned, only repeating the location. He opened his mouth to ask, but she began to cough, and he realized how long it had been since she had drank anything. Pulling one of the tea cups from a shrine, he collected water from a bamboo fountain in the cathedral. She gulped it down greedily, asking for more, but he slowed her. 

"Too much too fast and you'll be sick." He took the cup, her glared look almost making him smile with fondness. Swallowing back everything again, he let the Darkness begin tearing apart his feelings, feeding them to the fire. 

_ Wait - oh, vessel, you grow more infantile by the day - you still care about her?  _

_ When I am done, she will never be able to speak your name again without fear. I won't ever stop reminding her that you are  _ _ mine _ _ .  _

"I don't… Killian," She coughed again, and he helped her tip the cup past her lips once more. There was a distinct feeling that she was much lighter, a fragility that had not been there before on top of her ritual induced atrophy. "What happened? All I can remember is to get to Agrabah; we have to get to wherever  _ that _ is. I'm supposed to remember… You, and something else… What exactly took place?" 

She didn't remember. He breathed in, surprised at how sad it made him. That sadness was instantly replaced with anger as he let her go, feeling the pitch black fire in him roar into a blaze. 

_ When I am done, there will be no doubt about who  _ _ we _ _ are.  _

"You didn't bloody well listen to me, again, and ended up being thrown headfirst into more matters of life and death level chaos. If you are trying to get killed, at least give me the shard around your stupid neck so I don't have to sit by and wonder if you are throwing your chance at saving your kingdom away." He scowled, emphasizing his words with a low growl. "And with it my freedom."

"I - I'm sorry, I thought -" 

"Stop thinking then, and just take a minute to wait! You then could have the opportunity to observe that your decisions are going to kill people!" he yelled, and she jumped. 

"But - The barrier -" 

"Oh, aye, the barrier - you did break that at least, coming within a hair's width from the grave for it," he replied sarcastically. 

Emma shook her head. "No, it's still up. I know I destroyed it, but it isn't down. I can feel it. Something is keeping it intact -" 

The cathedral shook, small pieces of the structure raining down on them. Emma stood on shaky legs, hobbling to the door. 

The barrier burned overhead, like it was dipped in magma, holding in place even while its cracks shined bright against the night sky. Outside, they could now hear the screaming of the islanders and the sounds of terror as they ran from something, Killian’s eyes adjusting to see Cruella with her… Pet.

The huge black creature squatted on its haunches, frog-like legs proceeding many long limbs that reached for anyone and anything it could shovel into its maw. Cruella stood behind it, her necklace glowing a bright scarlet even through the thick clouds of green smoke that seemed to engulf her. Her laugh was a giddy cackle, Lilly's parents and Mushu running to meet them at the cathedral. 

Cruella screamed, her hair wild and nails long in the strange orange light of flame. "You fools, you absolute imbeciles! How dare you think I would let any of you go when I could simply drain you all!?" 

Lilly's head was bleeding, a hastily applied bandage put across her forehead, but she ran straight away to Emma and hugged her tight enough to where Emma was set into another coughing fit. It turned into a mixture of laughs as they pulled apart, Emma standing shakily as Lilly talked rapidly. 

"Cruella has gone absolutely  _ batshit _ and that thing with the husk mask ate all the actual husks, making itself bigger and growing hair. Now it's eating Kitsune and Dragon alike as if they are candy!" She frantically spoke, Mushu coming up behind her, wearing an angry scowl that matched her parent's faces. 

"We have to kill her and it -" Zorro pointed out the set of main doors, directly at Cruella. Another beam tumbled, and he moved out of the way as the front wall came down. 

Cruella turned, her eyes going even wider with insane glee. "My darling huskums, my beautiful creature, turn and look at these morsels -" 

The creature did turn as the cathedral crumbled further, Killian dodging the debris as Emma struggled while she was pulled away by Lilly. The group peered out, watching Cruella lead it towards them as the creature looked on, its arm reaching out towards them. Cruella clapped her hands in glee, the creature’s hand passing over her before coming down in a hard smack, as it drew her into its mouth. 

"No!" she screeched. "I created you! I am your mistress, your owner, you are my  _ sss _ -" 

Her cries died as she slid down its throat, and it turned back to knock aside another building, picking through rubble to gulp down any hiding islanders. They watched in disgust as it slurped down faces they recognized, before it turned away to knock down another structure and they turned to duck further in the shadows. 

"Alright," Mal said, slowly. "Just the husk creature then."

While the cathedral's main room was destroyed, the hallway off of it where it separated into a small entrance wing remained safely upright, and they moved forward. The King opened a small hidden compartment in a standing pillar, distributing swords to everyone; everyone but Emma, who was struggling just to hold herself up by using the wall. 

"I'll fight without, I'll be okay," she rasped out, closing her eyes for a moment and leaning back. 

Lilly pulled on Killian’s arm. "Is she alright? What's going on with -" 

The Dragon King interrupted the whispered concern. 

"We'll flank it and take it out by slashing the belly and under the arms. Bleed it out as if it were any other animal, and adjust from there. Stay tight in formation, two by two, on its -" 

"Don't hurt it!" Phillip roared, tackling King Zorro. The Dragon King was unprepared for the blow, but was up in a moment with his sword drawn. Queen Maleficent followed suit, both of their steel glinting in the burning air. 

Phillip stood in front of the cathedral door, his arms outstretched. "You can't hurt it, that's Aurora in there -" 

Killian snorted in time with the Dragon King's own scoff. 

"I promise you, Kitsune Prince, Aurora is not the one controlling that thing," Maleficent said, grimacing. She took a step forward, blade raised to Phillip's chin. 

Phillip refused to flinch, squaring his shoulders. "I think I can talk to it, calm it. If I can just reach her -" 

"It ate the husks, Phillip. They walked right into its mouth!" Lilly reasoned. "That's not - I mean, Phillip, come on!" 

Phillip remained immovable. "That was just her body, which is empty. Aurora's soul is in there, I can feel it." 

"Or, you go out there and it eats you too, mate." Killian flicked his eyes towards the Kitsune. "Like it ate Chihiro, Haku, the Dragon sisters from the kitchen -" 

Lilly laughed slightly despite herself, and Phillip glared. He looked directly at the Dragon King who looked pensive. 

"At least let me try," Phillip asked, pleading. 

The Dragon King gave a firm nod. "Go then. Should you fail, we will continue."

Phillip nodded, turning and running out of the cathedral. Emma wobbled slightly, but followed carefully behind, stopping in the cathedral's awning area, watching as the rest huddled to see behind her.

Phillip waved at it, both arms flailing as it drew near at a slow pace, its hands full of writhing people as it threw them down into its gullet as if eating grapes. It finished what was in its dark palms, and slowly turned towards Phillip, its body rippling. 

"Aurora! I know you can hear me!" he shouted, and the creature tried to paw at him with its many hands. Phillip dodged them gracefully, moving back out of its reach. To Killian’s surprise, horror, and dark amusement, the Kitsune began to  _ sing _ . 

The creature responded instantaneously, its hands and arms all absorbing into its body but for the front two, its mouth closing, and its masked head lowering to stretch towards Phillip while resting on its haunches. 

"See? It's me Ror," Phillip spoke to it, reaching his hand forward. His voice was a strong tenor, smooth and soothing, as the monster reached its hands toward him. " _ I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam…" _

Opening its palms in front of where Phillip stood, it rested them there as Phillip continued, growing bolder. He stepped onto them, and was carefully lifted upwards as if to be studied closer. 

" _ And if I know you, and I know that I do,"  _ he continued singing, " _ You'll love me at once, the way you did once,"  _

"He actually fucking did it," Killian whispered, Emma swaying slightly to the soft tune. She leaned against the column, holding a hand against her chest, coughing slightly. He fought the urge to steady her. 

Lilly and her family looked as completely taken aback as Killian felt. 

The Dragon princess shrugged. "I guess Aurora is in there, who would have guessed."

Phillip continued to sing, the creature observing as the island burned around them, and its denizens ran for shelter. " _ I know you, I've walked with you -"  _

With both hands, it shoved Phillip into its mouth so quickly Killian could hear the end note trail off into a yelp as the man slid down its throat. 

"Ah." Killian winced. "There it is."

Turning back to peruse for more victims, the King signaled the original plan was set to go. 

"Emma," Lilly began, worried. "Are you sure you can -" 

Emma waved her hand dismissively. "It's fine. I have my magic, and besides, I think I am due for a stretch anyways."

Lilly looked unconvinced, and Killian felt the same behind his uncaring facade. Emma looked at him, and he looked elsewhere, Lilly glancing between them with a growing scowl. 

"We'll go ahead," Lilly announced, pushing in front of her Mother, Father, and Mushu. "We know the ground here, and should we need to, we can blow fire or smoke to get away, or even change. If the assault works, come into the weak areas with magic and you," she nodded at Killian, "Focus on its regions where it may be weak but it is more dangerous, like the neck. If we aren't successful, we'll blast it with fire and see how that goes."

Maleficent looked surprised, but then shook it off, while Zorro seemed pleased. Mushu only looked proud, and Killian felt a pit grow in his stomach. He had looked at Emma like that once. 

_ And never again, unless we are proud of how much we've broken her, or how much suffering she endured before finally succumbing. You will never know her without terror: hers or yours. _

"That's an excellent strategy, let's go," Mushu said, pulling Lilly's hand into his, much to her surprise. She blushed, but her ferocity didn't wane. "Princess, Dark One, we will see you soon on the field. Luck will be with all of us, Fiore and Ifrit bless us."

The four gave whoops as they ran out to the field, Emma and Killian staying ducked in the entrance where the creature could not see. 

Swords drawn, they moved quickly and with a precision that was dance like, swords casting sparks on the thing’s hard belly and limbs. Only Maleficent and Zorro struck true, Zorro under an armpit then dragged up into the flesh beside, brownish sludge pouring out of the hole that acted as if it was fabric. The arm swiftly pulled into its body, swallowed back like it had been suctioned back inside, the black tears of it dripping to the ground in strips. Another arm appeared elsewhere as its innards continued to trickle slowly out of the wound. 

Maleficent had luck ripping her sword through just under the neck of the creature, throwing her sword hard enough to puncture its chest as it tried to smash its hands and face in a timed fashion where it could shovel her into its mouth. It shrieked at the wound, but plucked the sword out easily as she barely got away. They tried flames on its lower side, but it simply bubbled like tar, seeming to harden any lacerations they might have created. The four were forced to turn, whipping into the sky where the creature stretched unnaturally in its attempts to grab them. 

The thing shielded itself with one hand as the Dragons rained down fire, another of its hands shooting out to grab Mushu, slurping him down with a slick, wet, noise. They flew around again, this time fire almost catching Kitsune alight in the creature’s hold as it ate them with a smashed hand to its face. Landing, they ran for cover as they changed forms in defeat. 

The creature searched for them, but was either unable to or uninterested in finding them while other morsels ran about, Emma and Killian’s hiding spot ripped away as it searched. The thing grinned widely at them, and Killian pushed Emma away as one of its many hands hit the ground where they had been. To her credit, while the princess was exhausted and still confused, she did not hesitate to try and find another hiding place, heading for a small cluster of pine trees. The only problem was that while it had not fixated on any certain target before, it had certainly locked its sights on Emma. 

Ripping the trees from the ground with their roots still dripping clumped dirt, Emma slid down the newly created embankment and continued to run. Killian ran at its black mass, drawing his sword, trying to cut any of its limbs or body. While somehow gelatinous, the thing's body was also hard and elastic, not yielding to his sword in the least. A great hand pushed at him half heartedly as it turned, still focused on Emma as she ran. 

"Swan!" he yelled with vehemence as she dodged another of its clumsy attempts to pluck at her. What the hell was she doing? It wasn't as if the thing was magic proof, her best skill as it were. "What are you -" 

There was panic written on her face, a dead giveaway that something was wrong. Her hands crackled slightly with static the color of sunbeams, but the only effect was her falling forward slightly to her knees, looking at him with wide eyes while taking huge lungfuls of air. 

"Emma?" Lilly called, running toward where the princess sat, Emma just barely rolling out of the way as the husk beast chopped where she was with the side of another of its great hands. 

"My magic -" Emma choked out, knees wavering as she dodged again. "I can't - My magic isn't working!" 

Lilly screamed at her, both of them lost under the bellowing roars that came from the monster's hungry mouth. 

Her attempts to escape its grip grew sloppier as she began to tire, and it only grew more infuriated. A backhanded swing caught her in the thighs, sending her spinning in the air towards Killian, before landing hard to roll on the ground. He drew back his sword and drove it into the meat of the thing as hard as he could, just under the armpit of one of its limbs. It shrieked, a hand stopping from rising to squish where Emma lay prone and unmoving. He sprinted towards her, pulling her up in time to be pressed down against her tightly, one of the black palms pushing him to blanket her body to the point he feared he might crush her. As it lifted, claw-like fingers digging under her, the grip loosened. 

Killian attempted to struggle, to pull them both free, but its tongue wrapped around them as Lilly screamed and he wrapped his arms around Emma protectively. 

Sliding down its throat, pressure increased around them as moans and vibration seemed to come from every direction at once. A viscous liquid flooded over them, muffling noises to an indeterminate buzz, but allowing slow breathing. Emma stirred slightly in his arms and all fear fled him except her waking up only to die like this, to wake up scared and have no hope of rescue from the belly of the beast they rested in, to waste away slowly as Killian could only look on. He would go mad. The Darkness had other concerns. 

What would happen to him, the undying, in this manner of decay? Would he simply rot partially forever until whatever cataclysm took place that was more powerful than the Darkness? Would it be like a whale, some unlucky soul slaying the beast only to find him inside after spilling its entrails? 

_ It's your fault; all of this is your fault. As far back as the war and as close as you letting her think she had any chance of helping these Elemental beasts. Ironic, but then again, tragic. _ ** **

A low gleam came from somewhere nearby, slightly above and a little more than a head's length in front of him. A steady pulse of light was trying to glow, growing brighter with every attempt. 

There was a lurch and a sound that rattled his teeth as they were pushed forward, upwards, then out into the air until his back hit the ground. Emma rested on top of him, still but coughing slightly in her unconscious state, fingers curled into his soaked shirt. When he moved as others fell around him, she nuzzled in closer, murmuring softly. 

Kitsune and Dragons alike fell as the creature seemed to fall apart while vomiting as it unraveled. A light continued to glow from within it, and as it became smaller, it released bright bursts of color that swirled outwards like that of the Northern Aurora. The ribbons of multicolored brightness pulled the creature apart even faster, until there was nothing left of the beast. Where it had been, islanders began to moan and move, all whole and covered in the thick ooze. As Killian held Emma to him, he watched Phillip stumble to his feet as one of the first to stand. 

"What a small intestines," he grumbled, flicking away the slime from his clothes and hands. 

Nearby, a black figure lurched upward, its mask jostling to the side. 

"Philly? Philly is that you?" a woman called, her voice beautiful, lilting melodically. "I've been looking for you for so long!"

Her mask fell aside, and her eyes sparkled brightly. They were an otherworldly blue, almost violet. 

"Ror? Oh Gods, Aurora?" Phillip approached her cautiously as she slipped to her feet, catching her when she almost fell forward. "Is it you? Ifrit praised, I cannot be dreaming…. Please, I -" 

She threw her arms around him, and he stumbled, other voices around then erupting in surprise in turn. 

A woman with red curls ran to a man who's graying hair and mustache were an unkempt mess, both of them practically howling with happiness. 

"Lady, I thought I'd never see you again. I followed after you the next year -" 

The red haired woman's curls bounced as she shook her head, smacking him lightly. "Louie you tramp! Are you daft? Why would you ever do that!" 

Another couple openly sobbed while holding each other, unable to say much more than their names again and again. 

"Roger and Anita. Lilly told me about them. They chose to go together, or not at all," Emma said quietly, startling him. She moved in his hold to let herself down, and he felt the loss of her warmth as if he had crawled into a dark cave. 

Lilly and Emma met together in the midst of everything, hugging each other tightly. Emma picked up the now dimming source of light in her palm, a smooth stone, and looked at Lilly affectionately. 

"You used it all to save everyone. I knew that I could trust you." Emma smiled, and Lilly cupped her cheek as they put their foreheads together. 

"I had to. The magic we would use to exist wouldn't matter if there is no one here to exist." Lilly grinned. A glittering snow began to fall underneath the lingering light show in the sky, covering the landscape in mother of pearl iridescence. The barrier had finally fallen, bursting into the shimmering particles of magic. The princesses broke apart with shock as Lilly began to laugh, catching the powder in her hands. 

Killian walked towards where the Dragon King and Queen were standing, looking at an ancient woman, her bald head and milky white eyes not betraying who she had been. 

Cruella. 

Her body was skeletal, a dark burn where her necklace had been. Her nails that remained were long and still red, but that was the only thing left of her former glory. She mumbled incoherently, laughing softly occasionally at her babbles. 

Killian smirked, looking down at her bald head collecting the falling barrier remnants. 

"Looks like in the end, Cruella became a husk of sorts. How fittingly ironic." Isaac spoke from behind them, the King, Queen, and Killian turning to look at him. Killian glared, his anger growing into rage. 

"I'll care for her. It's the least I can do after all this," he sighed, and Killian launched himself forward, punching the man hard in the jaw. 

"Killian!" Emma shrieked from nearby, as Lilly laughed. Mushu and Zorro held Killian back as he lunged after the man. 

"I deserve that," Isaac slurred. "But you could have been happy, or could have taken her trinket and had happiness that way. I offered options in the worst-case scenarios, and for that you should show some grati -" 

Killian felt the Darkness surge from his anger, ripping out of the Dragon's hold. He punched Isaac hard again, sending the man toppling backward. 

"I owe you nothing, and if I didn't want off this accursed rock, I'd tear you into pieces," Killian snarled. A hand touched his arm and he whirled, Emma staring up at him with startled eyes. 

"Killian, what is going on?" she asked, worry written across her face. "What happened? What is he talking about?" 

"I -" Killian ran his tongue over his teeth. "It's nothing. Go find out where the bloody hell Agrabah is, and how long the journey will be. I'm taking a walk."

He turned on his heel and left Emma confused, not turning even when she called after him. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

By the time he had returned, showered, and changed into a different outfit not covered in what could be assumed was husk vomit, a celebration was taking place. Kitsune and Dragons lit fireworks and a band played merrily as barrels of ale were cracked open. 

Mushu and Lilly danced together, laughing joyously, as Queen Maleficent slurred out the names of the returning husks. 

"We welcome back Aurora along with Nana, Roger, Anita, Max, Lady, Louis, and Todd who returned from huskdom. We cannot say how good it is to have them back!" Cheers erupted, the crowd going mad. The returning husks gave bows, lifted in the air briefly by magic. "And we owe it all to the Princess of the United Realms, Emma N'lan, and her partner, Killian Jones of the Blackwater. They repay her family's part in the curse originally laid on this island, and have paid that debt in full."

Emma was seated at a table, not dancing, still looking tired. She gave a wave before draining a goblet. Her eyes caught his, but he turned away, slinking into the shadows before anyone could see he had joined the festivities. 

Heading back to pack their things and prepare the ship, he was surprised by Lilly calling after him.

"What do you need, Dragon Princess?" he drawled out, and she snorted. 

"What I need is for you to come and enjoy the party so Emma doesn't have to sit there and endure it alone." She placed a hand on her hip, looking at him as if he was stupid. "What happened to 'We make a hell of a team'?" 

She imitated his voice in a gruff and overly accented manner as she repeated what Emma had said of them. 

"None of  _ that _ ," he gritted out, "None of it happened. Don't mention it to me again." He nodded at her sharply, and moved to leave. When he had gotten a few brisk paces away, he heard her shout from behind him. 

"For what it's worth, you both seemed happy. Emma even said that she would - "

"For what it's worth, Lilly," he spat, rounding on her. "None of this would have happened if you, your people, Cruella, and Isaac did not try this scheme. You almost…" The words caught in his throat. Swallowing hard, he continued. "You're lucky that the princess lacks any self preservation."

_ She'll do herself in soon enough, or I'll see to it, and take that necklace since you are so incompetent - _

"I'm lucky she sees the good in everyone who deserves it, you mean?" Lilly shot back, her chin high. "You could tell her, just let her know that you both cared about each other. That alone might surprise you." 

_ You care about one thing only. The shard, the Dagger piece, the necklace around that silly princess’s neck. We’ll get it, get it, get it and we won't kill her, but we'll play with her and make her wait in the dark. I'll let you see her and hear her screaming as she grows more and more fearful of you by the day. Oh, yes, we will bide time until the blade can be stolen. Then we will kill everyone, but save her for last -  _

"No. No one tells her anything. I've made my decision regarding Emma, I'm… I'm backing off. The Dark One has never been able to care about anyone. To think otherwise is a fool's errand."

_ And you're the fool who runs them, listening to his weak ideas. I am your master and you have been oh so willful.  _

_ I can't wait to punish you, I think I'll start with her wrists. They're so delicate, easy to break.  _

"But -" 

"Lilly. Enough," he growled, his eyes shut tight. The Darkness babbled on with its non stop comments, the noise not a bother to Killian anymore. The thing that bothered him was the heaviness in his rib cage, the feeling of longing the Darkness either chose to ignore on purpose, or couldn't see. 

"Fine." Lilly huffed, but thrust a piece of paper into his hands. "Take this at least. It wasn't as good as yours, but I did the best I could." He held the piece of parchment in his fingers, not willing to unwrap it. 

She whirled around and stomped away, finally leaving him alone; just himself and his ever present parasite. He turned over the words he'd been stuck on that had caused him a visceral, sharp ache. They should not have hurt so much, nothing should if he wanted the Darkness to mind itself. Opening the paper, he let out a hiss of air. The charcoal drawing was not as good as his had been in the Dreamscape, but it still captured Emma's face hitting the sun as she wore a daisy crown. Her eyes were soft, looking at him with affection, her smile so happy. He traced the curve of her jaw, slightly smudging the black line. 

_ Alone again, alone forever, but can you imagine how alone you will be when we succeed? I might let you keep a play toy, would you like that? Then you could make sure she never dies, just stays your pet, watching while you destroy everything.  _

Running over them repeatedly to induce numbness, he broke himself against them again and again, like a wave against rock. 

Emma could have died. 

She could have died. 

What if she died? 

_ The shard would be gone, you simpering half-wit. Stop pretending and actually trying to believe that your fantasy mattered. You were there for less than a week's time and at most ten days; she would never care for you, and we don't care about anyone but ourselves. I'll make sure she lives just long enough to get the shard. To stop your whining, I may just kill her to spare me from more when you beg me not to mark up her skin.  _

"I felt like I did care, I felt -" 

_ You were under Kitsune influence. You felt nothing but a dream, and to think otherwise is a fool's errand. You're the fool, always the fool. She doesn't care about you any longer and you never cared about her. If either of you somehow do, I'll make sure to take action and correct that.  _

A memory swam before his eyes, pushed there by the Darkness in a swiftly brutal punishment. Emma's face as his fingers closed around her fluttering heart, the warmth evaporating in his hand as she crumpled to the ground. Her eyes gazing at him with shock, and hurt, and an intensity that made him think she might have felt - 

_ Remember what happens? _

The crush and pop bringing him pleasure that flooded his veins, feeding the black hole within him. The revulsion of feeling anything akin to delight as the life in her eyes faded. Crumpling the drawing, he shoved it roughly into his pocket. 

_ Remember how good it felt? _

Killian could not escape the cackle that rose in him, the Dark One's maniacal giggles escaping his own lips. 

_ There you are. Remember that she was wrong. You can't defeat me, you can't control me. I am you, and you are only an extension of me. _

He did not think of the party or return to the cave, spending the evening awake and somewhere far apart from any other soul, as he'd done before Emma had become a part of his routine. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Emma sat at the ornate table, Phillip and Aurora sitting to her left around the circle, while Maleficent, Zorro, Lilly and Isaac sat to her right next to an empty chair. 

"Should we wait a few more minutes for him?" Maleficent asked, looking at Emma. 

Emma shook her head, looking anywhere but the empty chair. Lilly's gaze rested there for a moment before she rolled her eyes. 

"Good riddance. If we have a meeting on brooding, we can consult that -" 

"Daughter," Maleficent hissed. "Enough."

Emma swallowed hard, trying to settle her reeling mind. It had been almost a whole day, and Emma hadn't seen Killian once. Lilly was in an instant sour temper every time Emma asked if anyone had seen him, and had nothing but negative things to say without saying much at all. Something had happened while she had faced the challenges; she had freed a beast, ended the barrier, released the husks all under the enchanted slumber. The whispers in the village, Lilly's cautious skirting around the topic, and Killian’s outright disappearance made it abundantly clear whatever the blurry outlines of Emma's recollection were, they were important. If she could only remember. 

"I first want to apologize for everything that has taken place here, and our roles in it," Maleficent stated, eyes downcast. "We are ashamed of what we did, the extent we were blinded by Cruella, and our hatred led us to make judgements of you, endangering you because of our feud. If I should meet Regina or Queen Snow, I will apologize until the end of my days. They raised a fine young woman to wear the crown."

Emma nodded, the pang of longing in her heart at her mother's mention somehow feeling fresher than before. "Thank you. Have you thought about who will represent you now that Cruella is…?"

"Yes. We have made a decision, Princess, and we feel you and your -" The Dragon King hesitated, eyes shooting to look at the empty chair, before clearing his throat. "We feel you should be privy to it now instead of later. We have elected Aurora and Phillip to what was Isaac and Cruella's status. Isaac maintains strategic planning knowledge that we cannot go without, but he will only be a voice on this council, or a tie breaker."

Emma sat up straighter, smiling slightly. "That's fantastic news!"

Lilly returned her smile, and nodded. "I thought you might approve. I haven't yet asked about Agrabah, but I also figured this council meeting would be a good place to ask -" 

Isaac interrupted by laughing loudly, as the Dragon King and Queen went rigid. Confusion swept over Emma at their reaction, Lilly, Phillip, and Aurora mirroring her surprise. 

"Yes…" Emma said slowly, watching carefully even as Isaac continued his laughter. "I do need to know about this Agrabah -" 

Isaac's laughter became louder and more raucous as he started slapping the arm of his chair. 

"Oh, oh this is - This is rich! I can't -" Isaac wheezed. 

"Out! Everyone out except the princess." Standing with a roar, Zorro motioned to the doors. 

Isaac's laugh carried through the halls as the others filed out, Emma's eyes following them as the doors closed. She fidgeted with her dress, the loose and gauzy cotton styles the Dragons favored soft between her fingers. Absently, she wondered what Killian was wearing. 

_ His shirt is soft, thin cotton, light in the warm air. Between her fingers it feels like it has more substance, but there is a bias there. It may feel like more because it pulls him closer to her, his lips harder pressed against her own, chest so close she can feel the breaths he is not taking to instead take her own away.  _

_ "I don't want to lose you," she tells the memory, trying to grip it as tight as she can. It crumbles, no softness or give in her hold.  _

With the room empty except for the Dragon King and Queen, silence fell heavier than ever. 

"So…" Emma began, breaking the stillness. Maleficent jumped, as if burned. 

"Did - Er - Your parents didn't tell - Snow Margueryte Whitehart did not tell you of Agrabah?" Maleficent asked, her and Zorro exchanging glances. She laughed, in disbelief. "Of all the strangeness in this world and the realms. For me to be the one to deliver more of your Mother's failures."

"I don't understand -" Emma began, but Maleficent cut her off with a snort. 

"Of course you don't understand. Your parents truly let you fall down here blind. Even your guide could not help you with this, as he would have never unleashed the Goblin's rage there." Maleficent sighed, heavily.

"What do you know of your mother's family, princessa?" Zorro asked, his dark eyes fixed on her own. 

Emma swallowed hard, her throat still tight. "I don't know much. I only recently learned that she was placed as queen, and only because everyone thought she would die."

Maleficent made a weighing motion with her hands, wincing slightly. "Not… Not exactly. Her father was an amazing inventor, and scientist. As was her mother. The two created the separate realms, using Hol control of time and space, the ancient Elemental magics, and other magic techniques unknown to us. It became clear that after a certain number of these realms were made, some were more stable than others."

Zorro rubbed at his eyes in a wince, as Maleficent began to pace. "Some were given away for the 'greater good', which bought your grandparents and mother their title. What use is a title if you are a poor house with no respect? Your grandfather secretly sold off tiny bubbles of realms that could go unsuspected. One of these is Agrabah."

"Of course, there is the matter of who they turned away in turn," Zorro said, quietly, opening his eyes and steepling his fingers. "And they turned away a request from the Goblins for a pocket realm, because of their agreement with the King of the time. Your father's father, and your grandfather."

Maleficent returned to her seat, looking at Emma with a small bit of what Emma thought might be genuine sympathy. 

Emma cocked her head, leaning over the table to lay her face in her hands and steady the sudden shakes that overtook her. 

"Why - But what could the Goblins have been up to then? Surely it was nefarious and my grandparents refused on that principle -" 

The Dragon King and Queen exchanged unsettled glances, something flickering between them that cast a shadow across their faces. 

"That's not important, but what Agrabah became is." Maleficent said, smiling. "It's a black market magic and arcane goods port. You can get in and out with simple magic keys, but the Sultan added another barrier of protection. He wove Djinn magic into the realm’s portal. No threats can get into Agrabah, as anyone who has ill intentions cannot make it through."

"That's - that's incredible!" Emma sputtered. "How did they -" 

"Djinn magic is more ancient than our own, and incomparably more powerful than a Kitsune's or Hol. They are the children of the Old Gods, bound with chains of servitude by the hands of their parentage. They could rip apart the cosmos with a blink, but few remain. They grant three wishes to their masters and are then forced to turn to stardust, learning everything and having the greatest magics as part of them, until such time as they can return or are freed to choose their own existence." Maleficent leaned against her husband, smiling gently. "Very few, if any, have actually been freed. The Sultan married his Djinn after he freed her."

"That's… that's absolutely unbelievable. I thought Djinn were at the very least extinct, if not made up entirely," Emma said with wide eyes. "How will I get in?" 

"That is what we must discuss," Zorro said, standing. He poured more wine into his goblet, offering some to Emma which she refused. 

"Princessa…" Maleficent began, dragging out the word. 

"We offer you our key to go to Agrabah and the location," Zorro said calmly, walking to the window so he stood with his back to her. 

"Yes, I accept, we -" 

"On the grounds that we do not accept terms of allyship, or offer our aid to you in any manner that belies permanence, or expectation of our presence in battle," Zorro finished, swirling his wine. 

Emma blinked, unsure of what she had actually heard. 

"I am truly sorry we cannot come to your aid at this juncture," Maleficent said calmly, giving Emma's hand a squeeze. Emma ripped it away, glaring. "We are just too weak, and too vulnerable. We've voted not to reveal ourselves until we have rebuilt and have weighed our place in the scheme of this war. 

"I saved you!" Emma hissed out, rubbing her tightening chest. "I freed you! You owe me a debt of enormous magnitude!" 

"We owe you a great deal for saving us, this is true," Zorro said, walking back to the table to stand behind Maleficent. "But we must place the continued longevity of our species under the lens of time - the Goblins are a fierce foe. We must place our bets where there is the least risk."

"It is not to say we will not come should you need our aid, but that it is understandable that our situation is precarious and volatile. Should you call, we will try." Maleficent nodded with a smile. 

Emma wished Killian was there, her mouth dry and tears threatening to spill over her burning eyes. She swallowed hard. 

"I suppose there is no debating with you on this, or changing your current decision," Emma rasped out as her throat closed. 

"No," Maleficent said sadly. "No there is not." 

"I accept your terms," Emma whispered, standing and leaving without any other words. 

As soon as the doors closed, Lilly was there with a mask of fury. 

"I promise Emma, I will show up if you fight. My parents may not be willing to declare it, but I declare myself -"

"Lilly, I just…" Emma let out a sigh, before coughing. "I'm really tired. I just can't think straight right now. I can't -" Lilly looked concerned, helping Emma as she began to cough harder, her body shaking. Phillip and Aurora were suddenly there too, as Emma felt herself struggling. "I'm alright, I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well, please -" 

"Princess, we the Kitsune will be there, by Fiore," Aurora soothed, Phillip nodding. 

Lilly cut in, her voice raised as Emma tried to push her way through to the waiting sunlight of the terrace. "And by Ifrit's horn, I swear Mushu and I -" 

"Stop, just, stop -" Emma rasped, bursting out into the sunshine with a stumble, directly into Killian. 

He grunted, looking down at her. He seemed as exhausted as she felt, his jaw tensed and his annoyance clear. Pushing herself up as he looked at her with growing irritation, Emma wondered briefly why everyone seemed to be angry with her. 

_ "You taste like the sweetest of wines." His voice reverberated through the skin below her temple, before his lips met hers again.  _

_ They broke apart, and he stared at her with warmth, her heart beating faster.  _

It became increasingly harder to breathe, and she wobbled, unable to fully stand. When she reached for him, he took a step back, his nose wrinkling in a way that made the burn in her chest taper into an ache. 

"I'm preparing the ship, did you get the coordinates for this Alibaba?" Killian spat at her, and Emma flinched slightly as she stood. His eyes widened, her fear seemingly upsetting him further, before turning to slits of ice. 

"I - Agrabah - Yes, not yet but I -" 

"Then  _ GET _ them, instead of stumbling into the only one of us doing actual work!" His face contorted into an expression of hatred as he yelled, Emma trying not to flinch away again. His hands balled into fists, a snarl on his lips. "It's literally you and I on that mish-mash excuse of a vessel, but yes, attend another meeting, Princess. I'm happy to do all the work, sailing and God knows whatever else crops up -" 

"Hey!" Lilly made her way over to them, rubbing Emma's back gently. "Let me go with you then. I'll help." Lilly looked at Emma, who in turn glanced at Killian, smiling at him softly. His expression and vehement glare at Lilly wiped her smile away, her hands beginning to shake as she frowned. 

"Why would I ever let you of all creatures on this rock, in any realm, on my vessel?" he growled. Lilly took a step back, confused. His voice grew louder, and angrier. "You are a spoiled, brash, easily manipulated, inexperienced, and underwhelming brat with no loyalty to anything but your own scaly hide. You can fly now because the Princess freed you; do that instead - And if you feel inclined, take my advice to better the world by soaring straight into a volcano."

"Killian!" Emma admonished, looked at him with a mix of shock, anger, and wide eyed upset. 

"I -" he began, looking as if he was going to round on her too, before dropping his shoulders, and spitting on the ground. "Sorry. This - I'm in a bad temper. I just want to get there, and finish out my services with you. Thank the Gods that this Agra-blah is supposedly only a handful of days away," he said pointedly to her, and Emma saw his jaw muscles twitching. 

"Oh," she breathed out. Her chest hurt, and she rubbed against the skin there as her throat constricted painfully. "I didn't… You don't have to feel obligated to serve me as if you were my knight, or… Listen, let's talk about this later. I don't think that decision should be made like this."

"I made you a promise to finish this out," he said simply, turning away from them to look at the ship. "I think it's best that I let you seek better companions and counsel once we get there."

"I guess it's also better that Lilly not come then," Emma whispered, her voice going hoarse, breathing harder. She turned to Lilly, who was glaring at Killian with darkened eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't -" 

"No, Emma. It's okay. It's not your fault or burden to bear other's weaknesses," Lilly spat, and Killian spun around, looking feral. 

"Whoa!" Emma stepped between them, confused. Her voice was strained, but she coughed, clearing her throat. "Did something happen? What is going on with you two, come on -"

"Nothing!" both of them snarled, Killian ripping away from her to stalk back toward the island. Lilly grunted as he passed in acknowledgement and disdain. 

"I feel like I am missing something big," Emma said after a moment of watching him go. "I know you all keep saying that no one remembers what happened in the rites, but I can't help but feel -" 

Lilly let out a dark laugh, without any mirth. "Trust me. It's better you stop asking, and accept that it's all forgotten. Especially now." 

Emma's chest burned, the cold autumn chill in her lungs almost overwhelming as she coughed, the prevailing feeling that she had lost something important and precious beyond measure. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Killian could not hear himself think, the raucous and jarring noise of the Darkness growing worse as he tried to keep himself together. It had tripled its efforts as soon as he had agreed that it was right; he should stay away from the princess, with the added measure of his removal entirely once she settled into Agrabah. 

_ THE SHARD, WE NEED THE SHARD YOU USELESS - _ ** **

"I don't need anything from her, remember?" he seethed, and let the barbs of it lash through him. "Your bloody words, not mine."

The Darkness howled, doubling its effort to break him. Lilly bore the brunt of his pain with her ridiculous request, his rage sputtering out when Emma looked at him like she had when they had fallen into this world, so long ago. Her questioning and tremulous look disarmed him, the cool air growing colder as any softness he had once worked for died in her emerald eyes. 

He felt sick, and maybe he was. He did not need to sleep, to eat, to have moments of silence or sanity. He did not require them to survive in the hellish state of inward decay the Darkness called this immortality, and did not need companionship outside of its preferred hateful cohabitation. The moments of having quiet, of waking to listen only to whispers instead of shrieks as Emma's breathing marked the passage of time had been a reprieve of clarity that now crippled him in their preciousness. Holding feelings like this from the Darkness as it tore him apart, he wished that he could die. 

The call of his name relit the hatred for his predicament, which grew exponentially when he saw who dared to utter it. 

"Killian, I need a moment. We seek passage to Agrabah, because -" 

"I just told the Dragon Princess in no uncertain terms to fuck off, and you, you both, of all the parties on this wretched pile of sand believe I should play ferry?" He grinned with malice, and Chihiro straightened with a gulp, Haku behind her showing no change as his steely olive eyes saw more than Killian could protect from. 

"We don't ask for you or ourselves, Dark One," Haku stated with annoyance. His gaze shifted, and Killian turned to follow it, finding it resting on Emma. She was sitting, rubbing her solar plexus, and clearing her raspy throat on the end of the docks with her feet dipped in the water. "The princess is displaying the early stages of an illness born of poisoning within the dream state - a poisoned heart, specifically."

Killian laughed, the look of surprise on Chihiro's face making the situation even more amusing. 

"You mean to tell me that you now care about the well-being of the woman you sent to death?" He felt his grin widen into something crooked, the Darkness in his veins crackling with power. 

"You don't understand, please -" Chihiro bowed her head slightly, begging him to listen, even as Haku stood absolutely unchanged in his demeanor. Everything in Killian screamed for him to be broken, for Killian to deal a blow that caused visible damage to the Dragon. 

"We are not without care for the hands that freed us," Haku intoned. "The princess, she is important to you. We offer this in reconciliation for what came to pass."

Carding a hand over his face and through his hair, Killian laughed incredulously. 

Chihiro wrung her hands, her lip between her teeth, eyes cast down. "I know it won't undo our wrongs, but if Emma is ill, if the symptoms she is having are linked to what we believe them to be, she will need special care that only a healer from this island can provide. You will be too far away by the time it progresses -" 

"The part where we are gone, and far away from all of you accursed creatures is the only thing in that statement I give a sodding fuck about. Who knows how you will poison us should we fall for your airs again," Killian hissed, and Haku rolled his eyes. 

"Please, my lord, I am begging you for your lady's and my future Queen's wellbeing," Chihiro bowed lower, prostrating herself. "Did something dark touch her while she dreamt?" 

Killian felt every part of him constrict, his lungs unable to find air. 

_ "Killian!" Emma choked out, her heart warm in his palm, the way it fluttered and beat out of control as his fingers bent against his will. Her wheeze at his sudden tightening grip broke him -  _

_ You can always be broken again and again, and then again, vessel.  _

"How would I know if the princess was under threat in your rituals? I know Cruella was lurking, amongst several dozen hungry spirits seeking to hurt her - but yes," he growled menacingly, eyes flashing, "I suppose any manner of things could have had a dark touch on the princess."

"Please, I know you were there with her in her dreams. The Spirits of those who could not return have told us of the strength in your many lives together. We know you had feelings for each other, and we respect your decision to not follow that path -" 

Killian bristled, his jaw tight as he ground his teeth. They all knew. He had to get away from this island before Emma found out the truth. 

"But, if something dark hit her heart, it's like the story of the ancient princesses of Arendelle. Where the Queen of Ice accidentally froze her eldest daughter's mind, giving her greater mastery of the freezing element. She froze the mind of each of her children, and they their own, all but her seventh daughter, Ilsa. Ilsa fell in love with a Merman of the Southern Isles. A. At the time, it was forbidden to marry outside of a tribe, let alone race. Ilsa refused to take her ice magic, and ran away against her mother's wishes…"

Killian barked out another laugh, rolling his eyes. "Does your fairy-tale have a point?" 

"The Ice Queen touched Ilsa's heart, gripped it actually, plucking it from her chest. She performed the ice ritual, but while holding her daughter's heart, a small bit of ice fell on it," Chihiro said, sadly. "The mind can be changed, and convinced that it is alright." She looked at Killian as if she could see through him to the part that felt only the deepest melancholy hearing her tale, her gaze piercing. "The heart knows when something is wrong."

Killian felt a chill run up his spine. Not able to stop himself, he asked the question he needed to know the answer to. "What happened to her?" 

"When a heart is touched by strong magic on any plane, fueled by stronger emotions, it can fall prey to that magic strangling it." He knew the answer, even as she continued with clear sorrow. "The princess froze to death. They believed True Love’s Kiss would heal her, but upon her dismissal of his affection, the Merman swam as deep into the sea as he could, never to be seen again. She melted eventually, some say, to join him."

"I believe it could be another type of poisoned heart," Haku began, but Killian was reeling. He cut Haku off, furious at everything on the island, at what this could mean, and for believing any of these serpent's treacherous lies. Emma was fine. 

"Enough."

_ Remember the Dark One, she said. Maybe the silly little princess remembers you quite literally breaking her heart? Is that enough for you?  _

"Let us at least give you both some herbal remedies, and medicine. Please, for Emma's sake -" Chihiro begged, looking absolutely terrified. 

"For Emma’s sake?" Killian felt as if anger was ripping him apart, something that wasn't dark at all tearing at him to listen while the Darkness collided with it in turn, screaming at him to make them pay. "Enough! You took all her magic, risked her death, risked her sanity, and dare to say her sake? She's weak  _ because _ of you. Directly because of you!  _ Enough _ ! I have heard enough of your lies, don't even bother. Bugger off."

"If they hit a blow to her heart, she'll die!" Chihiro sobbed. "Do you want that guilt? That you knew she was dying but like a coward, watched her waste away? Don't you care at all?" 

_ They are blaming you for that silly girl's cough, but surely your closeness and false feelings for the princess didn't cause her injury! Imagine her dying because of you here in the real world. What a pity, truly. Another name on that long list of yours… _ ** **

Liam flashed before his eyes as the Darkness pushed, numbing every sensation except his anger. 

"I find that I actually don't, any longer." Killian shrugged, the crooked smile back as he adjusted to the chaos in his mind. "Fuck off, both of you, and don't come near me again."

Chihiro pulled at his cloak and he wrenched away, continuing onto the ship. There the Darkness talked in barbs or crawled under his flesh, the lack of rest pressing into him like sharpened points against his temples. The mundane task of readying the ship as Emma gathered the coordinates provided little comfort, but made the time pass. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Another day passed as the Kitsune and Dragons helped with coordinates, stocking their ship, and providing them an abundance of awards for breaking the barrier. Casks of spiced cider, a wheel of smoked cheese, dried meats rubbed in herbal salts, and satchels of a pepper spiced chocolate sat in the galley, while Emma was gifted an emerald bangle, fine dresses, and silken undergarments. They were also gifted with good down pillows and a beautiful silk divan patterned in roses that Emma could not wait to spread over the bunk. 

Haku and Chihiro had brought her the strangest gifts as they departed, despite Emma's promises that their betrayal was forgiven. Chihiro seemed relieved by this, but still upset, while Haku looked unworried and absolutely aloof in totality about his roles in the rites. Both used hushed tones as they explained what things were, clearly trying not to be noticed by someone. 

The gift they gave was a pressed ball of a ground paste, dried to make it easier to preserve. It reminded Emma of a softer and denser version of a gift she had been given by a courtier, a fragrant fizzing thing to place within one's bathing waters. 

"This is for eating, though," Chihiro whispered conspiratorially. "It is very bitter, but you must take a bite of it three times a day for seven days. Morning, afternoon, and evening. If the taste is too much, gargle with sea water before and after."

"Alright. Thanks?" Emma tried not to sound too perplexed, but Haku stopped her with a firm hand before she could turn from them. 

"Princess, that medicine is as powerful as it gets. I was saving it to attempt to break Chihiro from the rites before your arrival." For once Haku looked momentarily ashamed, casting his eyes to look at her, his mouth downturned at the corners. "I know that what I have done cannot be undone, but I owe you this much: Do not let the Dark One know that you are taking that medicine."

"I tell Killian everything," Emma said sharply, and Chihiro shook her head, hands covering her lips. "Not telling him about this, that sounds -" 

"I know how it sounds, but you must not. He believes our aim is to hurt you." Chihiro shook her head. "I would have gone willingly to the life of a husk, if not for you. It was my pride, honor, and duty. You saved not only me from this sentence, but all those who could have fallen prey to Cruella's plans."

Chihiro took Emma's hand, placing it over her heart. 

"I give you one last blessing, as this medicine will not heal you completely until your magic returns in full." Wind curled around them, carrying soft snowflakes that had begun to fall. Emma breathed out a puff of air, feeling her lungs loosen as Chihiro dropped her hand. "I have given you a soot sprite charm. It will bind to you, and try to stay any illness you suffer with charcoal sprites made from our oldest pines. Should you see soot marks, you will know it is working."

"Um, thanks I guess, but I'm sure this is just a cold. The change of the seasons, stress, traveling, having no healing magic -" 

Haku interrupted Emma's list with a grunt. "No. This is - I wish we were allowed to go with you so we could treat you if need be. The Dark One has refused us." Emma tried to hide her surprise, lips parting in shock. "This is as good as we can give. If you see dark smudges, know that the soot sprites are working. We don't wish ill tidings on you. You have changed our minds,  _ my _ mind, which is no easy task. You must stay alive, so we can come to your aid against the Goblin menace."

"Wow." Emma swallowed, and Haku bowed his head. "Thank you. Truly." 

"No, Princess." Chihiro smiled, "Thank you. We have a future because of you. We have a chance to see a world that might allow us to create life." She blushed deeply, and next to her Haku coughed as redness creeped across his own face. "We owe you everything and more. You must be well."

Emma nodded, eyes misting as she watched the two walk away from the dock. Lilly approached, and Emma began crying in earnest, hugging Lilly tightly. 

"Are you sure I can't stow away, or meet you there?" Lilly held her tightly, and Emma shook her head. "I just - what if something happens to you? What if you leave the barrier and Nil -" 

"We'll be fine. I'll find a way to safely send word to you when we find what we need there." Emma pulled away, gripping her friend's shoulders tightly. "You… You are like a sister to me, equal only to my friend Ruby. Thank you for everything, my dear friend." 

Lilly laughed, throwing her head back. When she'd stopped, she grinned through happy sobs. "I'm the shittiest sister you could have ever been stuck with, but I am glad you think of me that fondly."

"Hush up, you dingbat."

"It's pronounced Dragon, you uncultured elitist Fae snob."

Emma laughed, coughing slightly as they hugged again. 

"Princess!" Killian shouted, his voice gruff. "Any bloody time now, thanks!" 

"Goodbye, Lilly." Emma let go of her friend, but Lilly held fast. "What?" 

"Just… Killian went through a lot to save you. I don't know why he refuses to care for you after proving it, but you deserve to know that he… You deserve better." Lilly looked at her feet, mumbling the last part of his confession. 

"Wait, what? Lilly, I -" 

"Princess! Now or never!" Killian yelled. 

"One of the most ancient magics of all, that came before even we Dragons, is the need to be close to someone. To… To care about them." Lilly pulled away, cupping Emma's cheek. She leveled her gaze directly into Emma's. "Just be sure to share closeness with someone worthy of you." Emma didn't have time to reply before Lilly waved goodbye, launching herself into the air in her sleek Dragon form. Emma wandered confused back to the ship, unsure why she felt nothing but dread. 

They set off out of the now fog dense cove, sliding through the thick white blanket that would conceal the isle from now on. Emma looked out on the mist as it dissipated into a gray cloudy day, the sea ahead dark peppered with small patches of the sun's rays. The moment they met the open sky, she watched Killian relax slightly at the wheel. 

_ "It's where I feel most at peace. I could stare at the sea all day. The only thing as beautiful is you smiling like that at me."  _

_ "You're easy to smile at, Killian. One might even go as far as saying easy on the eyes." His amused look of false shock made her snort.  _

_ Batting his eyelashes at her innocently, her laughter made his grin grow wider. "One might say? Which one, hmm? You?"  _

_ "Perhaps." _

"Is everything alright?" she asked, and his eyes flicked toward her then back to the sea. "Killian, I guess, I mean… I know things aren't alright, but I don't understand why, or why no one would tell me what happened -" 

"Because it doesn't bloody well matter what happened, and  _ nothing _ happened, so stop talking about it. Stop asking about it, just accept that you will never need to know!" Killian shouted as he advanced on her, his jaw clenched and eyes bloodshot. 

"Something is wrong, I'm not stupid. I can tell that something did happen." Emma raised her chin, and his hands reached forward, fingers going tense until he raised both in frustration. "You're different, you aren't -" 

"Are you sure that you aren't stupid, Princess?" he growled out, beginning to pace in front of her. In the overcast dim, it was easier to see the Darkness as it poured off of him like overflowing steam atop a bubbling cauldron, trailing his movement. Emma let her eyes widen, but quickly covered the rest of her hurt with the anger that followed after. "You rush into danger, you have no self preservation, you trust anyone -" 

"I used to trust you," Emma interrupted, trying to catch her breath. "The Darkness is overwhelming you like before. I can help you, we can beat it back again. This isn't you."

"It definitely is, Princess. It isn't the Darkness that is pressing questions or throwing itself into danger. I'm sorry that isn't something you accept, just like how you won't accept that nothing happened in those bloody rites. Nothing! But you keep asking, keep bringing it up, trying to find something that isn't there. I used to think you were intelligent, how's that?"

"To hell with you, Killian. Don't come to the bunk tonight. I don't want you anywhere near me with this sort of -" 

"I wasn't planning to," Killian cut her off, with vehemence. "I find that sleeping next to you made me lose the sharpness of my acuity. You will sleep there in the bunk. I will maintain my post."

"Good!" Emma shouted at him, stomping away. "Just great. More room for me to spread out. Good!" 

"It is good, it's better than good!" he yelled back, throwing up his hands. 

"Fine! Shut up about it then!" Emma shouted in reply. 

"Fine!" 

Emma's voice echoed up from the stairs below. "Fine!" 

The door slammed, and quiet fell at last. 

Emma laid down, wondering why she was crying. Partially in anger, but there was something else that made her want to yell at Killian. It sat heavily, dangling itself just out of reach in her mind as if the answer was on the tip of her tongue. He was absolutely out of line, completely disrespectful, every line they had created to make their unstable alliance work torn to shreds by his actions. Worse still was that there was no way to get through to him; he was absolutely lost to her in this mood. Emma screamed into her pillow, for what felt like hours, until her voice was raw. Sleep came with difficulty as her lungs burned, her head swimming with questions. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  
  


The morning light hit Emma's face, waking her from a fitful sleep. Her dreams were plagued with strange moments of intense deja vu or scraps of nightmares that made her jump awake. Her body felt sore from her coughing when she wanted to scream, her throat still achingly sore. She was in a way glad, her wheezing gasps had not alerted Killian to her distress like her screaming might have. He most likely wouldn't have bothered anyway with how awful he was being, but she wasn't ready to face him regardless. Grabbing the medicine Chihiro and Haku had given her, she stood stretching. She poured a bowl of porridge from the crock in the small cooking station they called a galley, heading up on deck to eat. 

Killian sat near the wheel, choosing not to regard her as she moved toward the front of the ship, beginning to try swallowing porridge down her raw throat. She eyed the medicine with curiosity, peeling back the careful wrapping of waxy paper. Taking a small bite, she turned and retched over the side immediately, the bitterness in her mouth overwhelming. 

"Swan, er… Princess, are you alright?" Killian walked toward her as she swished porridge around in her mouth to cover the taste. "Did you lose your sea legs, lass? Or is it just your wee bit of a bug you've been working on losing since we left the island?" 

"Now you make conversation?" Emma rasped, her voice half a hoarse whisper, and half a shrill hiss of uneasy breathing. The medicine had eased her burning throat where it had touched, but she had swallowed so little. "If you must know, I am feeling unwell. I was given this by Chihiro; it is supposed to help my throat feel less like I've swallowed broken glass and boiling tar."

Killian’s eyes flashed a steely blue, his face souring. Emma remembered Chihiro's warning, shivering a bit as he stalked toward her. The Darkness poured off of him in waves that made her feel more nauseated as she turned her back to him. Taking a large bite of porridge, she bit into the medicine only for it to be pulled from her hands by Killian, who wrenched it away before launching it into the waves. 

"Killian!" Emma tried to shout, but her throat was tight, fighting the mixture of rice, milk, and bitter herbs that made her gag. She swallowed hard, panting in short breaths. "... Why…?" 

"Are you completely stupid? Absolutely, completely, and utterly moronic to a fault?" he hissed, and Emma pressed herself against the shiprail while her knees buckled. "Do you crave dying, you brat? That's it, isn't it? You want to fail everyone and simply can't wait to throw yourself into the next disaster, for hope that it will -" 

"N-no!" Emma managed to groan through her chest burning, even as her throat's soreness began to ease. Her bowl clattered into pieces on the sun lit wood. 

"No? Oh that's precious, truly Princess, so precious. You took who even knows what from the two that poisoned me, and sent you - sent… Who tried to hurt you, and you thought, 'gee, maybe I'll eat this?' is that it?" He gripped her wrist, eyes cold and mouth twisted. "Do you know what you made me - Do you think I want your blood on my hands, even by your own lack of caution? Well? Do you!?" 

"I might do the same! If someone I loved was in danger, I would be desperate." Her throat was still tight, as she spoke in bursts of raspy words. "I don't know if I can say I wouldn't do the same. We both are fine, and so are they!" 

"You think we're both fine?" Killian screamed, his hand grew tighter around her bones, her yelp turned into a squeak. 

"Killian -" Emma whimpered, trying to pull on his fingers to loosen their grip on her. "Please stop, please -" 

"Why would you trust them?" he roared, his grip tighter, and the Darkness pressing on her, pushing itself against the sliver of magic she could feel. "What is wrong with you, why can't you just -" Emma whimpered again, his eyes meeting her own. 

Something in her mind pulled free, her fear turning to fight. Her chest felt as if it might explode from its wound tightness. All of her burned, her body beginning to shake as she reached up to smack him.

"You're hurting me!" Emma wheezed, her bones grinding in his harsh grasp. His other hand caught hers, her limp wrist not much of a threat even as her fingers met his cheek. 

The Darkness receded around him, leaving her gasping while Killian let go of her immediately. 

He looked wild, crunching the broken bowl under his boots, staring at her as she cradled where he had dug in his fingers. She watched him run a shaky hand over his face while attempting to catch his breath, the short puffs bright in the air. 

"What is wrong with you?" she bit out, rubbing at her wrist. He looked genuinely horrified, truly upset, before she pushed past him to head back down below. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Time stretched indefinitely, unbroken by their need to avoid each other at all costs. He tried to make a small offering of an apology by way of a sleeping draught, but Emma fought every urge to slosh it out over his head. If she wasn't as tired as she had been feeling, she couldn't say it was off the table. She was furious with him. Absolutely livid, her body actually going warm with rage at the mere thought of his actions. It was as if they were back at the beginning of their forced comradery, his springs stretched to snapping. Throwing up her hands again, she flopped back into the bunk, turning to scream into a pillow. 

Or attempt to, her throat protesting even the smallest of noises. Her body hurt, coughs rattling her entirely, and her throat was still tight, leaving her with taking painful, wheezing breaths. Her time was broken into periods of rage, exhaustion, sickness, and avoiding anywhere on the ship she wasn't alone. Killian had been obviously distressed when she was near him, the Darkness itself curling around him like some sort of chain when she managed to catch glimpses of it. He didn't speak when she slammed together what she needed, only pretended to be ignoring her while they both cast quick looks at each other. Several times it sounded like he might start to talk, but he swallowed hard or closed his lips into a firm line instead. 

The sleeping draught he placed on the table with no note or explanation meant he had been in the Captain’s quarters, which also meant he had been there when she hadn't or as she slept. Her dreams had been haunted by him increasingly in ways that made no sense to her; how mortifying if a moan had slid past her lips? Or if her choked screaming from nightmares had been heard, and he had seen her begging for his help? If he had come in when she was having one of these many fits, and that's why he was offering the draught… Emma's cheeks flamed at the thought. It didn't help that the dreams were beyond realistic: Emma could feel the details more and more, as if she was there. 

And then there was… Her anger turned itself inside out in her chest, still heated but in a different way. There was the strange wonderfulness that was Killian’s appearances. At first it had been unexpected, but as these dreams progressed further he became a familiar fixture until he morphed into something more -  _ someone _ more. More often now she dreamed of his closeness and the warmth of him, the feel of his large hands against her skin, his strength physically as he tickled her before stealing a kiss from her lips - 

His lips. How could she be thinking of Killian’s lips when he had hurt her and degraded her like that? Why couldn't she dream of him as he was, an asshole with no feelings but for himself? He hadn't changed, and if she believed he might, his fits of rage made it clear she was wrong. That medicine had helped with her cough and eased the pressure in her chest after an hour or so of swallowing it down, but now it was lost to the sea. Emma wished that it wasn't gone as she rubbed her aching chest. 

Killian knocked on the door, and she scowled even as her anger twisted itself into knots. Standing, she brushed down her skirts, the sudden shift making her dizzy for a moment. Taking a sharp breath, Emma caught herself on the desk until the spots in her vision cleared. When she opened the door to answer, Killian was walking away and turned to look at her. Emma noticed he looked tired, hair more wild and in desperate need of a trim, stubble left to grow into a scruffy beard, and his body language almost unsure instead of feral. 

He stared at her without speaking until she moved to cross her arms in annoyance. 

"I took the maps from my desk. Agrabah is five or so days away pending fair winds," he stated after clearing his throat. 

Emma nodded, turning to go back into the cabin. He should have left a note, not that she wouldn't have ripped it up and left it back outside the door, but he didn't need to talk to her so she had to see his stupid face with his stupid blue eyes - 

"Swan, wait!" Killian stood in the doorway, Emma sitting to listen with a bored face. Her heart raced. He walked towards her looking at her with curiosity. "You still look ill, are you sure you're -" 

"Don't start to worry about me now, since you threw that medicine away," Emma snapped. His face fell, before becoming angry. 

"They poisoned me. There is no way -" 

"Yeah, they did that to you, the immortal one. Not me. They told me to avoid you because of this, to hide that medicine - which worked, by the way - from you. I trust Chihiro. I trust Lilly. I don't trust you like I used to." Her eyes narrowed at him, widening only briefly at the shocked, sad silent nod he gave in reply before retreating. "Why don't you just go."

He stopped briefly at the door, seemingly struggling to speak.

"As you wish, Princess. I just... I'm sorry." 

When the door closed behind him, Emma felt her stomach drop. Taking the sleeping draught's bottle in one hand as Killian had taught her, she popped the cork and took a long swig. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

_ Don't blame me, Dearie.  _

It was another of the Darkness’s long hisses in Killian’s ear as the days ground on. A few days had turned into two weeks due to poor winds and heavy snow. The sea was deep and cold where there was at least no ice to cut through, but the chill in the air was nothing to Emma's cold shoulder. It physically hurt to hear her whimper Nil's name in her nightmares knowing what they entailed, his own sleep non-existent as the Darkness raked him across coals.

_ You don't need sleep, you great imbecile. You have grown soft, so fucking soft. _

He grunted in reply, looking out over the waves. Snow dusted him as he moved around, pushing it off his deck as he tried to think without the Darkness interrupting. 

Emma hated him, currently. There was no doubt of it with the way she regarded him, and how he had lost his bloody mind. The Darkness was pressing hard against him, exploiting his lack of sleep, his weaknesses, and his fears with ease again. He had told her that he wanted to be free of her, then gone on to catch himself before striking her, and then he had almost broken her wrist - 

_ You should have gone and broken it. She deserves to know how much you need to be freed of her. Get the shard and leave her, get over your fear of her eventual grizzly death. She's lucky to have made it this far.  _

The part of himself Killian hid away from the Darkness had bloomed as he and Emma lost themselves in dreams. Now he escaped to its warmth frequently knowing the Darkness could not follow, to escape it for brief moments. Thinking of Emma dying, thinking of her being sick, thinking of the very idea that he could be the cause of some 'poisoned heart' - the worry could exist in the tiny space before his prison warden demanded he stop caring. 

He couldn't stop caring. Everything reminded him that she  _ wasn't _ his in the waking world - that he  _ couldn't _ \- that the temptation to comfort her could be so easily given into if he simply laid next to her, throwing caution to the winds the Darkness churned out. 

The sleeping draught had been a peace offering and a salve on his breaking will, an attempt to prevent her from whimpering his name in her sleep as his sanity waned. Hearing her beg for him to help her, the way her whimpers of Nil's name made him irrationally emotional, or the sighs he had only heard her make when his tongue moved past the seam of her soft lips were too much. The Darkness tortured him with the noises, his ears picking them up from across the ship. 

Emma hadn't taken it until his cowardly failure at apologizing to her, sleeping in an almost eerie silence for hours. She woke only to relieve herself and quickly eat, ignoring him as if he didn't exist. She disappeared from the ship as if she was only a ghost. It was lonely, but better than allowing himself to get too close to her again. 

It must have been lonely for her too. As her sleeping increased, she seemed to seek him out more. Being in his presence wasn't enough, and soon she was talking to him again. He ignored her, which made her more persistent. 

"How's your hand?" she asked, still trying to make conversation. He grunted, and she came closer as he hid his wrapped palm. "Stop, let me -" 

"It's fine," Killian growled, but she only rolled her eyes, carefully undoing the bandage. 

"You really shouldn't let it go more than a few days without healing of some sort. You’ll get an infection," Emma said quietly. 

"What," he said tersely, annoyed by the softness of her touch and the way she treated him with gentle concern. "Worried I'll die, Princess?" 

Her lips became a thin line at his sarcasm, and she huffed. "Don't be an ass. I do still worry about you, even when..." Emma trailed off, the corners of her mouth turned down. 

He blinked, and scowled at her. "Don't. Save it for yourself and your problems."

"Killian," she sighed, her breath catching a bit so that she had to clear her throat. "My problems are yours too. We are in this together. Besides, you are such a child when you're sick. Remember how you were laid up for almost two whole weeks after catching some port fever? You were so miserable, the crew and I could barely stand you. You're lucky that I was so patient with you as a pirate."

He couldn't breathe. She  _ remembered _ . 

They had been together on a ship, him a pirate and her a waif he truly had lov - 

_ No. No you didn't. Don't you dare even think that. You know that you were manipulated - you feel nothing. _ ** **

He watched her hum to herself as his palm met the air, the wound foul smelling and swollen red. She looked at it with disdain, but he felt her magic begin to pull away the swelling and the heat, soothing slightly before coming to a sudden stop. 

"That's… I don't understand, my magic should be working?"

Emma blinked up at him, and he noticed she was sweating slightly, her hand shaking as it held his. 

"Are you alright Princess?" Killian asked carefully. "I haven't been sick around you, and you seem… confused. Er, what were you saying -" 

"I don't know…" she whispered, the trembling increasing as her brows pinched together. "I just, I'm so tired. I don't…" She swayed, holding her palm to her forehead. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm so out of it, and I feel tired to my bones. Then my magic isn't working, I just…"

"You're probably just reacting to that draught still, hallucinating all sorts of things." He turned away, refusing to look at her for too long. Rewrapping his hand, he heard her hum in agreement, the noise turning into a raspy wheeze, and then a coughing fit. "Come eat something then go lay down again or have a respite -" 

Emma collapsed, falling sideways onto the deck, hitting hard against the wood. Killian was at her side in a matter of seconds as he cursed, carefully pulling her into his arms to cradle her. Her cheeks were bright red, far more than just sun coloring up close against yellowish pale skin, her forehead radiating heat when he laid the back of his hand to it. How had he not noticed, how could he have not seen how sick she was? 

He had been avoiding her every moment he could; ignoring her, pretending to not hear her coughing, shrugging off her need for more sleep, not wearing a coat in the chill, her lack of appetite - 

Killian let out an even longer string of expletives, a small gash opening on her temple. Helping her down to the bunk, she thanked him in a barely there whisper before almost immediately going to sleep. 

Emma did not wake for hours, his worry evolving into something much greater. She was sluggish, asked for water with a strained voice, coughing herself back into a restless sleep. She seemed to deteriorate quickly, her usual energy replaced by exhaustion, leaving her winded from climbing the stairs or ladder to start. By the time they approached the coordinates of the portal, she could barely pull herself out of his bunk, and her cough had become much more violent. 

Killian found it harder than ever to be in her presence, her pleas for him to comfort her too tempting. He instead made a clear cut schedule that primarily focused on caring for her while she slept, with a few quick checks during the day. 

The Dragons had given them some meat, and he boiled it down over a small flame until it was broth, feeding it carefully to the princess as she attempted to fight sleep. 

"Please, Killian, please don't let Cruella take you from me. I need you here, I need you. Don’t let her hurt you, I can't keep Milah's memory alive …" 

Killian blinked, his hand almost dropping the spoon that he held. She couldn't be remembering, it was impossible. Emma let out another series of fitful gasps, trying to bring air into her lungs. Her back arched, the fabric of her shift shifting to reveal blackness under her left breast. Pushing her neckline aside, he looked down in shock. 

Black fingerprints and a black palm mark wrapped around the top of her chest, as if a dark, sooty, hand had burned a brand into her solar plexus. 


	20. xviii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. Things are terrible, and I have not been spared by these ill tidings. 
> 
> Please, keep me in your thoughts. And hey, tell your friends to read this macabre tale.  
Things could always be worse, but having hope is the message.

Emma slept as Killian guided the ship through the portal, and then into the sunlit turquoise waters of a palm tree lined harbor. She had slept the day before in fitful bouts of exhaustion, losing herself in fever as he looked on helplessly, the Darkness snapping its jaws. The black that pooled like ink across her chest had spread, Emma whispering the word parasite in hisses at him between remembering things she shouldn't be remembering. She was hysterical, warning him about 'the parasite', and 'to remember the Dark One', staring at him before begging him for help he could not muster. 

It was clear that he was the cause of Emma's condition, both in action and in reaction to her. His ignorance in not noticing she was sick, throwing away her medicine, listening to the concerns over her cough so they had stayed on the isle for just enough extra time - it all fell on him. 

Alice Jones had been sickly, her disease life long. A spore grew in the dank caves of the Blackwater and its surrounding village, the Ladies Reform Academy, or the Baelfire Hold that caused Lichenlung, a lung disease that took female Fae. The disease itself wasn't deadly, but the fevers caused by weakness generally were. His mother had died from such a fever, her coughing fits and inability to choke down breaths eventually strangling her. He'd studied cures in the Naval academy, his required duties bringing him to the bedside of over two dozen women stricken with the illness. Even Milah had succumbed to it eventually, the message she left him still haunting him. 

Emma sounded and had symptoms like the people he had seen in their last days. He was honestly uncertain that the princess would survive, a thought that thoroughly terrified him and the Darkness. In the secreted corner where he harbored other emotions, terror was an understatement that threatened dire consequences. The Darkness finding he still felt  _ whatever _ it was that made Emma so much more would break him, and risk it making good on its promises to hurt her. Even as panic gripped the small scrap of light left in him, the Darkness had only just begun to realize its precious shard would disappear. 

_ How _ to help her was the issue. The Dark One being loose had most surely made it to places like  _ this _ . He'd only heard of them in his naval career, been told tales from his Father as a lad when the Blackwater Lord had spared him a glance, and generally been too busy doing the Goblin King's bidding to know too much about his surroundings. But in his understanding of Agrabah's history, it was a blackmarket goods and information brokerage hub. Royalty turned a blind eye on what was good for keeping gold in its coffers and ships in its ports; the thieves, ne'er do wells, and bandits did their best to not rob everyone blind.

He could not bloody well run in the market carrying the Princess of the United Realms in his arms. Were their healers the type to recognize them, or ask questions? Would their ship be inspected? Would he get a knife in his belly or more worryingly, Emma's? Killian didn't have any idea of if they even had healers, or doctors - they knew nothing about the place. It was the blind leading the… 

He found himself at her bedside more than he cared to admit, as if whispering apologies would save her from his spreading filth. As it became clear the waters were placid, he hauled pillows up beside him, laying Emma in the shaded corner. She woke briefly, fluttering her eyelashes against his neck and whispering his name. Steering them into the docks, he threw out his ties to the pier, knotting them with ease. A loud thunk threw off his precision as it reverberated through the planks, Killian on his feet with sword drawn in moments. Two pairs of startled brown eyes looked up at him, Anisapi dressed in embroidered kaftans standing in front of him on a great carpet. 

"We mean you no harm," the first said, his maroon kaftan matching his fez, primate tail whipping back with nervous anxiety. He smiled, or attempted to, but his sharp canines did little to aid his welcome. His voice was slightly scratchy, but it wasn't surprising as he shuffled his body weight between his feet and knuckles. "Our Sultana, may her sight never fail us, summons you to the palace. Come at once!" 

"And who the bloody hell are you, the petting zoo?" Killian flicked his sword upward, motioning for the Anisapi to back away. The monkey scratched at himself, but the jungle predator growled lowly. "I don't know a Sultana. I am here - 

"Be still, Dark One," the larger of the beasts snarled, his whiskers twitching. His eyes were more tawny than the monkey, his orange and black fur bristled in irritation. His large tail flicked wildly, snakelike. "Your lady is in danger. Sultana Jasmine can help your princess."

Killian tried to lunge forward, but the tiger was quick despite its size, pinning him on the deck. 

"How did you -" Killian panted, unable to push off its heavy weight as the Anisapi held him with ease, his paws massive. "How do you know about the princess? Who are -" 

Emma whimpered, Killian turning his head to see the monkey resting its fur covered knuckles against her forehead. 

Thrashing wildly, Killian swore as the monkey reached for her necklace and the shard. "Leave her alone, don't you lay a bloody paw on her -" 

"Abu!" The tiger Anisapi growled lowly, and the monkey stopped short, pouting. "Don't even think about it. You are in enough trouble as it is." 

"I just wanted to -" The monkey protested, but the tiger snarled viciously. 

"You're upsetting our guests you furry toothpick." 

"To be fair mate," Killian hissed, pressing back against the tiger's hold, "You're the only one who is upsetting me. Get off of me, tell me who you are, and how the hell you knew we were here." 

The tiger's ears pressed lower on his head, but he sprung off of Killian to allow them both to stand. Killian pushed past them to check Emma, the monkey scooting away sheepishly. 

"Our Sultana predicted that you would come, seeking her aid. I am her advisor, Raja." The tiger Anisapi bowed low, his stature even at half height impressive. Emma shivered against him, burying her face into Killian’s warm chest. Raja gestured at the monkey, with a twirl of his claw. "This is her…" 

The tiger exchanged a nervous look with the other Anisapi, before the monkey spoke. 

"I'm her new assistant. Abu, at your service." The monkey winked at Emma with a grin, and she laughed slightly. Turning carefully in Killian’s hold with little noises of protest every so often, he heard her stiff joints creaking from fever. 

_ All your fault. You made her suffer, you make anyone who you are close to suffer. Imagine, thinking you loved her, or that she could love you!  _

_ You'd destroy her. Ruin her.  _

"I'm -" Emma attempted, but could not push any more words past her parched lips. She tried again, but doubled over instead as Killian’s guilt suffocated him without relent. 

_ Do you think she remembers it was you yet?  _

_ Maybe she won't remember until she takes in her last gulps of air, wouldn't that be poetic? Certainly sounds like our flare for dramatics…  _

_ Imagine her final moments knowing that you were her murderer, the one who she tried so hard to trust. So much for choosing to see you at your best, eh vessel?  _

"It's alright. We know who you are, Princess… and we are aware of your companion. The Sultana knew you would be ill. Make haste to the palace, both of you, at once." Raja handed Killian a scroll, Abu unrolling another carpet onto the deck. "We have rooms made up for you both and healers at the ready. Hurry, Dark One."

Abu and Raja moved back to their carpet, which lifted into the air, its gold and royal purple threads shimmering in the sunlight. They sped away towards the city, leaving Emma and him alone again on the deck. She hummed against him, drawing her legs up into his hold before going limp again. 

"I want to go home. I want my mom." Her forehead rubbed against his chest, dampening his shirt. "Please, stay with me. I feel so - please ---" 

Killian couldn't reply, everything caught in his throat or tucked away from the Darkness. Emma didn't seem to notice, to his relief, her eyes fluttering closed. She slept soundly within seconds. Carrying her to the enchanted rug, he pulled her into his lap without comment, noticing how light she had become in only a week's time. 

_ You knew she wasn't eating, she wasted away in front of you and you knew that it was your fault. You condemned her to die, another reason your love was imagined. You did this to her. You will be her demise. Get the shard, let her -  _

"NO!" Killian hissed, the carpet beneath him shuddering to life. It lifted itself, bright reds, oranges and turquoise dancing over the deck. He'd come back and grab their belongings, but for now, Emma needed whatever anyone was willing to give.

It was his hand that had caused this as he squeezed her beating heart, his hands that had tore her from the island, thrown away medicine into the sea, ignored her symptoms, and let her get this bad. 

_ We get the shard then and we leave, never to hurt her again. She will beg for you to leave her when she learns this is all your fault. The quicker you can get the shard, the better… It would be a shame if she remembered how you crushed her heart with glee.  _

Her hair tickled his chin, blowing in the wind as the palace towers appeared. The scroll had been a very easy to follow set of instructions with a map to a far balcony where they would land. Once there, the carpet landed gently on tiled floor, servants appearing in procession. If this was an ambush, it couldn't have been planned better, the group surrounding them against a sheer drop. His neck hair rose, sweat beading there despite his best efforts. The Sultana was draped in blush silks, her dark brown hair seeded with pearls that lay in a golden mesh wrapped plait. She watched Killian warily, eyes darting to Emma as the princess began to wheeze. Taking a deep breath, he hoped beyond measure that they had not fallen into a trap of some kind. 

"She's barely conscious." Killian moved forward, guards raising curved blades to protect the Sultana. "Please, if that's what you brought us here for, the princess needs help." 

The Sultana looked at him, her deep brown eyes narrowing. She stared for a few seconds, blinking with a strange sort of unsure confusion in her eyes before finally straightening. 

"I am the Seer of the Sands, Sultana Jasmine." Jasmine's voice was soft and melodic, accented words clipped with formality. "May my sight be your own, and may we see all."

Her guards lowered their weapons, making the symbol of an eye with their index and middle fingers while muttering some short devotion. Killian glared, grunting at the decorum happening in favor of Emma's health. 

"Great, do you have a healer or help for her, or -" 

"Yes, of course Dark One." The Sultana nodded. "Come, follow me." 

Killian hadn't noticed before, but as he hoisted Emma further against his shoulder, he became aware of why the procession had unnerved him. The Sultana was clearly Fae of some sort, but the group surrounding her was made up of Anisapi, Elves, Fae, Nymphs, Mortals, and more frightening, a few Goblins. His nose wrinkled in disgust as he held Emma tighter to him. 

The Sultana led them nearby, pushing open thick wood doors to reveal a courtyard with a small pool and fountain. A shaded set of chairs were canopied by gauzy linens, with two sets of double doors on the far end. One was open revealing a hallway butted against a balcony looking over the city. The other had linen drapes that blew in the breeze, providing some curtained privacy to another chamber. 

"Down that hallway is your quarters, Dark One. Here," the Sultana opened the first set of doors, motioning Killian to enter, "Is where my Doctors and best healers will treat the Princess Emma."

The room was a polished sand colored marble, bed small but neatly made against a large stained glass window. Strange countertops on wheels were positioned with various bottles and instruments on them, and as Killian eased Emma into the bed he realized that a group of Fae were watching him expectantly in wait. Emma protested weakly when he let go of her to step out of their way, her soft exclaim falling to a sigh when a syringe filled with something the color of mud was injected into her arm. 

"Come." The Sultana linked her arm with Killian’s, his body jolting. She stared deeply into his eyes, ignoring his hatred for her touch, walking him to sit at the pool. "You must have questions, yes? And you must tell us what you know to help save Princess Emma. We must speak."

"Not bloody likely." He wrenched away, pushing back towards where Emma lay still. "What did they just inject her with? I don't care if you're a sodding queen, what are you doing with the princess? How did you know we were coming?" 

"I am Sultana Jasmine, Seer -"

"I know who you bloody are, how did you know!?" 

"If you had  _ listened _ ,  _ rude _ man in  _ my _ kingdom, you would know I can see the future. I see its many paths, and I have premonitions. It is how I have kept my Agrabah so safe; the gift of my mother, a Djinn." She tried to lay a hand on him again, but he backed away, sitting in a corner where he could see Emma clearly. An Elven man with gloved hands was pouring a soft gel over her forehead that glowed a dulled color on contact. Others scribbled notes while a siren carefully peeled away the princess’s sweaty clothes with care, laying down a blanket of sheer silk. The Sultana cleared her throat expectantly, and his eyes flicked back to her with annoyance. 

"A Djinn?" he asked, incredulously. Djinn did not have offspring as far as he knew; they were born of chaos or created. 

"Yes. The premonitions are the reason I knew you would come." The Sultana hesitated, watching him carefully. He stared back, trying to ignore the Darkness and remain impassive. "If you had not come, the princess would have died in three days time. Here, you have a better chance, in the paths I saw."

The news brought an onset of instant relief and elation. He couldn't hide from the Sultana or the Darkness how happy it made him to know Emma would be alright, his words tumbling out without care. 

"So you know she will be healed, and what the future holds -" 

"Oh, God's no." The Sultana laughed, the sound lilting. 

_ You pathetic simpleton. Your princess is as good as dead, and all thanks to you.  _

"No…?" 

"We will do our best to help her, and she should recover." 

"Ah." He swallowed hard. 

"The paths I see are infinite, and I can only see so many. Like branches on a tree, I can see which direction the limbs go, or how large the tree is from a glance. It's when I need to see the branches and leaves that causes me to focus. You can only take in so much. So no, but I saw some outcomes, and what we are doing now will help prevent what negative outcomes I can." She smiled softly, her brown eyes warm. 

"How can we know that you are trustworthy?" Killian asked, leveling a cold glare at her. Her smile didn't waiver, but grew wider. 

"I suppose you can't, but if we wanted you dead, I have plenty of viper poison at my disposal that could kill you in mere minutes. Since you don't seem to be able to die according to the legend, it would be a painful way to suffer in unending agony, that's for sure." The Sultana shrugged, with a wink. "I suppose we will have to have faith in each other, yes?" 

He nodded slightly, and the Sultana turned, taking her leave. 

After an hour or so of watching different concoctions poured over Emma and watching countless Fae or Elementals write notes, he excused himself to his room. A dwarf with a shocking cobalt beard and studded eyebrows dragged in a large wash basin, not spilling any of the steaming water within. He grunted at Killian, dropping a few bottles and a large towel on a table before leaving. Without a second thought, Killian stripped to dip himself in the tub. The water was hot enough to pink his skin, but the heat felt right in the airy room as he scrubbed himself raw. 

Eventually, Killian felt his thoughts slip to Emma, marveling briefly how well Jasmine and she would get on, even though he had only just met Agrabah's ruler. Of course, Emma loved everyone, because she was too trusting, too bloody good for her own well-being. The Sultana though, seemed genuine. She seemed caring. A person who Emma would find a kinship with. 

_ If she survives to meet her.  _

He buried his head in the steaming water, wishing he could rinse the Darkness and the doubt that ate away at him clean. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The Darkness did not let him rest as the hours crept past, plaguing him with all manner of its devices, his teeth grinding as he tried to ignore it. It was easy enough to enjoy the heated water, the silks, the fresh fruit and drink that seemed to appear without end as servants politely knocked to leave tray after tray, even with the whine of it in the back of his head. But the unfamiliar feeling of wrong was wearing on Killian’s last nerve. It felt empty, as if the color was muted or his senses were dampened. 

_ Your senses are as sharp as ever, you delusional idiot.  _

Killian chewed slowly on a date, trying to place the feeling while battling with the nasally voice. When he ignored it too long, it fell back on another of its old stand-by irritants sure to get a rise. 

_ “You’re the picture of a Lord now, Killian. The Blackwater family name lives on as a Jones.” _

He choked slightly, his father’s voice echoing in his mind, the sneer on the man’s face as he glared across his desk flashing in his memories. Brennan Jones, surrounded by stacks of papers in his paneled study. Surrounded by his portraits of their ships, the Jones men of the Blackwater fighting war after bloody war for whoever was warring with who, at the expense of anyone but the royals themselves. Survival was guaranteed at a certain level of nobility, his father all but too happy to have two fit lads he could send away to gain glory while he bought or sold ships of lesser born men. Alice Jones had fought to keep Liam and Killian from the truths of their worth and the world for as long as she could. They had always had her love, and her support.

When she had died, it was like the colors of the world had muted where there was light, allowing Liam and him to see what they hadn’t before. In the shadows, the truth stalked. It bore down on them as they grew - Liam into the serious next in line Lordling that fought with Father over lives lost or cut corners, and Killian, who hid his hatred poorly but was the easier target. Liam couldn’t be everywhere at once. 

Brennan Jones, the master of all things in the Blackwater dominion, was keenly aware of Liam’s every limitation. He was more aware of Killian’s.

_ “Come now, m’boy. Waiting hand and foot on a Princess, and in the harem den of a Sultana feeding on sunned fruits - You spat on such futures when I presented them to you. You wonder why there is no color, no vigor in your blood… Your answer, is it hard to swallow?” _

He threw away the fruit in disgust, the cruel laugh of his father a bellowing echo in his brain. Opening the doors to bring more air into his suffocating suite, he nearly ran headlong into a brightly colored mass of feathers. It squawked in surprise, raising arms ending in long plumess, the red and blue flashing in the light. 

“I’m - My Lord I -” A platter of something clattered to its bird taloned feet, as it stared at him with beady eyes over a mouth that tapered into a beak. More bird than Fae, but not an Anisapi, the reptilian skin and strange stature was wrong. The creature took a step back, its ears poking out under its crest, and the pieces clicked together. 

_ A spy, a snake, sent to watch you!  _

“Why are you here?” Killian snarled, kicking the tray out of the way, the Goblin flinching back further. “Who sent you? Did you think I wouldn’t recognize poison?”

_ Kill it! Kill it, and kill -  _

“My Lord, the kitchens - I simply work in the kitchens, my name is Iago -” The Goblin moved to grab the tray, but Killian was on him faster, wrenching his wing behind the creature’s back. “Please - I - what have I done, my Lord?”

Raja appeared from where Emma’s room lay, to Killian’s relief, moving towards them with purpose.

“This thing tried to -” Killian thrust the Goblin forward , twisting its feathered arm to turn it.

Raja cut him off, roughly tackling Killian to the floor. “Iago, did this Fae hurt you?”

_ Kill them ALL vessel, get the shard, take it and leave nothing but broken -  _

“No, no, Raja sir, I don’t -”

“Did I hurt  _ IT _ ?” Killian roared, staring in disbelief. “That bloody fucking Goblin -”

“Has been in the service of the kitchens here, since before your enemy was born.” Raja growled lowly. “He served the past Sultan and the Divining Light of the Desert Oasis, the Sultana Aura. He now serves the Seer of the Sands, Sultana Jasmine, and will serve her until the day her sight should ever fail us, forbid it to happen. He is no enemy of yours, Dark One, or your Princess.”

_ "Do it, do as I command, son! You worthless, whining, awful child. Do it. Liam would have! Liam had honor! He should be alive instead of you." _

Killian only grunted in return, Raja standing quickly and offering a large paw. He swatted it aside, glaring at the trembling Goblin as he stood. 

“Do not send it up here again,” he hissed. The Goblin looked helpless, and Raja scowled. 

“He will, or your princess will no longer have me as her guard,” Raja rumbled out, his dark eyebrows raising in challenge as he bared his teeth. “Your choice.”

Killian gritted his teeth, glancing between the two.

“Please let him stay, Killian.” Emma’s soft whisper was barely audible, but his gaze immediately snapped to look at her. She leaned against the door to her room further up the hallway, the wind blowing the gauzy white curtains behind her. Still pale and flushed, when she stumbled slightly, both Iago and Raja were by her side within moments. 

_ "You are pathetic. Even Liam knew it, he told you he never cried when he took your lashes because he knew that you would never be anything more than a nuisance if you knew the truth." _

“Princess, you shouldn’t -” Iago said softly, his Feathers bristling. 

_ "Everyone knew you were pathetic, but Liam took the brunt of it so you could try and be something worthwhile. You failed everyone so completely, and now you can't even protect the key to your freedom resting on that chain." _

“Iago, you promised me you would help with my dreams,” Emma moaned slightly as they helped her back through the doorway, the curtains tangling around her slightly. “I want you to stay. You are fine, like none of the Goblin folk I have ever met. Please, please don’t stay away. Killian should have been told - ”

_ "You could take it, you could make someone get it for you. You won't though, will you, son? You know she's going to die because of you. You don't have to be a failure this time, this time you could be free!"  _

“He attacked an innocent staff member because he is garbage specist scum,” Raja gritted out, Emma shaking her head emphatically in disagreement. “Iago could have been hurt -”

“I’m fine Raja, really,” Iago insisted. “My wing is fine, I was just surprised. Let’s drop it.”

“I don’t trust that thing, Emma,” Killian hissed. Raja stood taller, squaring his shoulders, but Emma raised her chin.

_ "She should not trust you. No one should." _

“Leave us,” she whispered. Raja and Iago bowed quickly, leaving with a few of her medical team who were watching with confusion. Killian watched her slow movements, his fingers twitching when her hand rubbed hard against the column of her throat. 

_ Get the shard.  _

_ "Yes, m'boy, get the shard. Get it and you will have everything you ever want." _

"Well,” she said with a tired sigh, settling into her cot. She looked exhausted, but he noticed that more unsettling was her irritation with him. “Hey. I know we haven’t - I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but... Can you stop pissing off the staff and abusing them? It’s not exactly making an unpleasant stay anymore pleasant."

She coughed, looking at him pointedly. 

_ "Nothing has been pleasant with  _ ** _her_ ** _ around." _

"Fine,” he grumbled. She nodded and laid back, with a sigh of relief.

“Now… Good morning. Are you alright? I had wondered if you left. I hadn’t seen you in so long.” 

_ We should have left. We should have taken the shard and - _

Killian scratched behind his ear, frowning. “Good morning, Princess. If I leave I’ll say my goodbyes to you beforehand, but I - I haven’t made any plans,” he admitted, quietly. “How are you feeling?"

"Honestly?" Emma whispered, her voice a dry and shrill echo of her normal honey timbre. "Like shit."

_ Good. Let her perish. Once we get the shard, that is.  _

"You must be feeling somewhat better to forego your usual regal manner of speaking," he teased. 

“You are one to talk. What you did - Killian, I can’t -” She pinched the bridge of her nose before violently wheezing into another coughing fit. “I’m so mad at you right now, and I don’t have the energy to be mad. Why? Just -”

“That thing is a Goblin! That’s why!” Killian interrupted, looking at her with disbelief. 

“Just, can you please give him a chance?” When he didn’t answer, she shook her head sadly. “I’m so tired, and I can’t… I can't keep fighting with you. I can't have this dynamic anymore…” Trailing off, he felt a heaviness in his chest, the ache becoming more common. Was he sick as well?

_ "What is wrong with you?"  _

“I said - I said fine! Fine.” He shrugged. “Fine, it’s sodding fine. It’s your bloody funeral.”

“Would you show up to my funeral, just to say I told you so?” Emma chuckled lightly, but he didn’t return her smile. 

“Depends on the menu you serve,” Killian replied dryly, shrugging. She smiled slightly, looking at him expectantly. His frown deepened as he carded his hand through his hair. “I’m just worried for you, and I -”

“I’ve been more worried about you,” Emma stated without irony. The Darkness scoffed in his Father's voice. 

She hummed, eyes closing and a cough rattling her chest. "You've been acting weird, and not just because I'm sick. This whole fight, this attack, how awful you've been lately to me and anyone else crossing your path… It’s not the you I know. I thought honesty and a little bit of snark -" Emma broke into more hacking, taking deep gulps of air. She reached for his hand, but he snatched it away, making a point of not looking at her directly after he saw her face fall. 

_ This is why you must leave!  _

"I'll go get you some more water." He stood, dusting himself off. The ache in his chest was sharper, coupled with a feeling of shame. The Darkness tried to press at him to be angry, to attack her again, to insult and belittle her as he had done on board the ship but he refused. 

"No, wait - please stay, don't leave me here alone already." Emma reached out for him, but he walked away briskly towards a servant. She started coughing again, the steady decline of her health making it harder for her to breathe. "Killian, please?" she whimpered, but he rounded the corner as fast as he could get away from her. It wasn't the first time he had fled from her as she fought whatever illness had taken hold. 

His room sat behind her own, the walk out of the wing putting him in full view of where she rested. It had worried him at first, the open air home to the wind, pests, and sand, but a caregiver had eased his thoughts by mentioning a protective spell around the room. Emma seemed eased by the breezes, which had given way to his taciturn reluctance to be anywhere near where she was. Several times she had called out for him, once even attempting to follow after him until she stumbled into the arms of a nurse. 

When they were forced into conversation by Jasmine's crafty handiwork, Emma continued to question him about what came to pass in their shared dream. She was remembering more and more, specific details that made him squirm in his seat. She believed wholeheartedly they were simply dreams, but as they continued he caught her glances at him more and more. Her lingering looks, the blush in her cheeks that she tried to will away with a bite to her lip, the soft tone she said his name in - it all was entirely too much to be close to. 

It was as if his body wanted her desperately, her closeness addicting, but the Darkness and his common sense screeched at the reaction. Running from her was cowardice, but necessary. 

He spent time wandering the stalls of the market, numbly taking in the scents of foreign spices and the colors of vibrant silks. 

_ Get the shard and leave. Run away to freedom, take your life back from the hands of the weak Princess. Leave her behind. You're doing her a favor by abandoning her before we break her.  _

The Darkness chattered non stop, its grating voice a low hum in the front of his mind. Deeper, there was an echo that he clung too, even if it was in whispers. It pointed at emerald pendants that caught the light, sparkling at him, and the patterns embroidered in the clothing the Agrabah people favored, hung on display. Golden swans swimming in unfurled blooms across damask and silk, a jeweled veil that went along to match made him pause, his fingers sliding along the fabric of their own will. 

"Pretty silks for a pretty woman in your life, yes?" The shopkeeper grinned, eyeing Killian with narrowed eyes. 

"No, I'm afraid I don't have -" 

The shopkeeper scoffed, swatting at his hand with annoyance. "Then look with your eyes, and begone."

He blinked at the man's bluntness, turning away with a snort of laughter. Emma would have loved this. If she were here, she would have charmed the man into giving her the bloody outfit for free, just because that was the beauty of who she was - 

The Darkness whined louder, as if it could sense his weakness. He fled, not to his ship where he had once felt nothing but comfort - no, that was filled with her too, her smell, her laughter; the bed was still a twisted mess of covers from where she had lain ill. He could see her there, or worse still, the images of them together, curled around each other in a gentle doze. Being there was like a candle being smothered, the air taken from every space. 

It took a few days of wandering, but he found a makeshift place to rest away from the palace that suited him. It had been, or was, a home of some vagabond at one point, cloth rags curtaining what had once been a wall, a full view of the palace and sky, while broken produce crates had been placed to use as shelves. A threadbare rug lay on the dusty floor, next to a straw pallet. 

Killian did not use the bed, instead sitting on the edge of the wall, looking out over the view as he tried to lose himself. 

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" 

The voice startled him, his head whipping around to see the man approaching him cautiously. He was dark haired, a true shock of it that was swept back in a messy swipe, his large brown eyes regarding Killian with a wary curiosity. 

"Sorry mate. Don't want trouble if this is your spot; just liked the view," Killian said evenly, not moving save to gesture at the palace. 

The man nodded, moving to sit across from Killian, producing two apples from his pocket. He threw one at Killian, who caught it easily. 

"It is one heck of a view," he said simply. After a long moment of silence, he spoke again. "Do you think that the people who live there are happy?" 

Killian tilted his head, looking out at the gleaming towers of the palace, and taking a bite of the apple. Chewing slowly, he swallowed hard without looking at the man. "No. I don't think there is much true happiness to be found there." 

More silence followed, both men eating their apples. It was broken again by the stranger. 

"Name is Aladdin, by the way." 

"Killian."

"It was nice to meet you, but a word of warning. Trouble is coming for those in the palace - and they deserve every bit of it. You're new here. Stay clear if you know what's best for you." Aladdin wiped his fingers on his patched pants, and Killian frowned. 

"Fair advice, but not very specific," Killian mused, shrugging off his frown before slouching back with false amusement. "What if I like getting into trouble? Is it worth my time to go seeking some fortune in their golden coffers?" 

Aladdin narrowed his eyes, jaw jutting up slightly. Anger rippled across his face. "No. No treasure," he said, the words dripping venom. His anger seemed to dissipate as he frowned, staring at the dirty floor. "There isn't anything there for a common thief of a street rat."

"Then tell me what is worth stealing, if you aren't part of the usual riff raff." Killian smirked. 

Aladdin hesitated, his earlier energy gone. 

"I won't know until tomorrow. I get the orders, and then I grab the object." He scratched his head, adjusting his fez cap. "I just know that any chance I get to punish the Royals is a chance I'm willing to take. The Sultana is heartless. She's a diamond that blinds you before cutting you into ribbons."

Killian arched an eyebrow. "It rather sounds like you and this Sultana are more than intimately acquainted."

Aladdin glared, turning red in his cheeks. "She's much too grand for someone like me," he hissed out. 

Killian nodded slowly. "Fine, I'll stay out of your way. I hope the job is worth it."

"When we're done, it will be." Aladdin grinned. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Days passed slowly as Emma begged for company, particularly his. The Sultana and her had taken to each other as soon as Emma began to improve, giggling together as he passed, eating meals together, or talking long into the evenings. Jasmine exerted pressure on him to join them, but Killian dodged her with a practiced finesse he hadn't used since the days before Milah, escaping his father's rages. 

The Darkness still slithered in his mind relentlessly, bouncing back and forth between the voice of his captor the Goblin King, and his accursed father. The lack of rest coupled with the descriptions of his mother or a gory ending to Emma's life in Brennan Jones tongue was enough to turn Killian’s insides. 

_ It's fitting you lose every woman in your life to tragedy, isn't it? All three, sickened into an early grave.  _

_ "Luckily, your mother never lived to know what you become. You would have her blood on your hands as well." _

His mother had died so much like this, her frail body lost among the bedding as a healer sat nearby. 

Killian was beyond relieved at the absence of everyone in the palace upon his return, when he saw the princess hobbling towards him in the hallway with a determined look in her eyes. He tried to find an escape, but beyond leaping out of the window, there were none. She bared down on him, menacing even as he took in her exhausted countenance. 

"We," she gestured between the two of them, "Have a meeting in 5 minutes." 

Killian shook his head. "I don't think - I'm unavailable for any sort of counsel. I'm sorry -" 

Emma cut him off, with an annoyed wave of her hand. "Jasmine has been turning away suitors, and she mentioned that she was housing a sick woman with no known cure. Now, my life is tied to Jasmine's hand in marriage." Her voice broke slightly, but she was quick to cough, looking at him with hard eyes as her words dropped with wry, unhappy sarcasm. "You know, just royal things."

"The Sultana did what?" he hissed, anger beginning to course through him steadily. " _ Bloody hell _ , Emma, we need to -" 

"I  _ tried _ . Jasmine is bound by the law here, and I am bound by… I need a cure. These suitors of hers may have something that can rid me of this. One of them says he knows what this illness is." She pointed to her chest. "The healers Jasmine has blessed us with can keep treating the symptoms of this, but not for long. I - There's nothing else that can be done. I need a cure, and quickly."

"This doesn't concern me, or you. We will stay here while they -" 

"Killian, you're not understanding me. I have no other options. This - this is a last resort that I'll be lucky to have work." Emma bit her lip, looking downcast. She did not meet his gaze as his rage grew into a panicked fury. 

Swallowing hard, she wrapped her arms around her frail frame. "We need to talk, Killian. I've tried - The treatment isn't going to do much more than make my symptoms better until it doesn't. I don't have a lot of hope at this point." The last sentence was whispered, and she closed her eyes before wiping away wetness. "I wanted your input. The situation here just didn't, well, pan out… Therefore, I have named you as my second. Should I die, you will be the shard's owner."

_ You've killed her, vessel of mine. Maybe I was wrong about your usefulness after all! You've freed us, and the United Realms will fall for it.  _

_ "Your vengeance is finally within sight."  _

Killian struggled to breathe, the Darkness triumphantly purring in his mind. The secreted feelings he held close burned, disbelief at the possibility that he might lose her, that he was the cause of her death, of her pain. He stared at her, trying to focus on her words. 

"Jasmine has helped me prepare all the documents that will be needed if Fae law ever returns to the realms." Emma pointed to the space on her chest where the shard had laid, its long chain empty. The absence of the silvery pendant was as jarring as the black bruise-like tinge of her skin underneath. 

_ WHERE IS OUR SHARD!?  _

_ WHERE HAS THE SICK, SPENT,  _ ** _BITCH_ ** _ PUT IT!?  _

The Darkness screeched in many voices at once, each enraged as his eardrums pounded inside his skull. His fingers balled into fists, the urge to bruise, to make Emma suffer for this crushing him under its weight. He couldn't, he would never - 

_ FIND IT FIND IT FIND IT AND PUNISH HER. FIND IT AND MAKE HER PAY -  _

"You gave it to someone else!?" Killian growled as he moved closer, dwarfing her. She took an uncertain step back, her breathing catching in her throat. 

Emma gasped slightly, but choked out an answer with wide eyes. "It's alright. I trust the safety of it. Please -" 

"You trust - You  _ trust _ ?" Killian laughed darkly, grinning at her with a malicious sneer. "When has your trust ever been worth a bloody damn? Your trust is meaningless, your faith is worth  _ nothing,  _ and now you have forced me to follow by your side if I want my freedom."

** _RIP_ ** _ HER APART,  _ ** _GET_ ** _ THE SHARD! _

"I made the deal, I need the cure. I am sorry, but you have to trust me on this. I wanted to discuss it, but…" She pleaded, but he refused to hear any of it. The Darkness rose like a tidal wave, furthering every bit of him that sparked with hatred. "It's done. I need you to know my funerary needs, just in case the cure fails, but first we have to meet these suitors - "

"I don't care, Princess. When are you going to understand that I don't want to be here? We aren't friends, I am not doing this out of good will or kindness like your naivete expects. I want to be free of you," he snarled, watching her shrink into a coughing fit. "Does it please you to leash me, Princess? Do you relish in having your faithful pet at your beck and call? I don't want to have your blood on my hands, by tether or not, but if you insist, I will make sure that you regret it." 

"Killian, please, I -" 

** _"THAT'S IT, M'BOY._ **

** _MAKE HER SUFFER."_ **

"I don't want to be your second. I wouldn't want to be your fifth, or even your sixty-third!" Killian spat, his anger pouring out of him. His father's voice taunted him relentlessly, egging him on, and he could barely think over its noise. Something quieter tugged at him too, begging him to stop. It begged him to look at her tearstained face, and her clear horror as her hands rose to cover her mouth in shock. At the way she flinched back when he moved, or made a gesture, obviously in fear. He ignored it, lashing out as his father laughed. "You are an absolutely infuriating and insufferable companion; once you are healthy, you will give me the shard, we will end this alliance, and you will never see me again."

Emma stood in stunned silence for a long moment as he panted, before giving a short, barely there nod. 

"As you wish," she whispered, finally meeting his eyes. They were nearly as bloodshot as his own as she trembled. 

_ THE PRINCESS  _ ** _DESERVES_ ** _ THIS. _

The smallest, barely there whisper was almost drowned out completely as it cried, trying to get him not to listen. 

_ The Princess does not deserve any of this, or any of this rage. She's scared of you.  _ ** _You hurt her_ ** _ .  _

** _You_ ** _ caused this.  _ ** _You_ ** _ .  _

"Now, where the sodding fuck are these suitors? The sooner we get this finished, the better," he seethed, Emma pointing in silence to a set of double doors with thick golden inlay. He pushed them open forcefully, coming face to face with a familiar man dressed in traditional finery.

"Ah, Dark One. Princess." Jasmine gestured from her throne for them to approach. A group of men stood before her, giving bows as Emma was helped to a smaller chair next to Jasmine's, Raja gesturing at him to move so that Killian stood by her side. The men drew closer beckoned by Raja as he stood in front of his Sultana. 

"The kingdom of Camelot has demanded the laws of the open palm be laid out, here forward," Raja boomed out. "The offer stands at a cure for the mystery illness plaguing her guest, given with an open palm, in return for the Sultana's hand in marriage. One by one, please present yourself. Tonight we dine together, and tomorrow you will begin seeking a cure. If the guest is injured, made worse, or dies from a proposed cure, the offer is void. If the guest dies before a cure is found, the offer is void."

"Thank you, Raja," Jasmine stated robotically. Her face was solemn, no hint of any emotion. 

Raja nodded, then set his sights on the first of the four men. 

The first was tall, and somehow sinewy, his fingers long around a golden cane shaped like a snake. His deep, wine and dark garnet robes were elaborately lined in golden embroidery that made his dark skin and eyes seem to glow as if lit by embers. 

"I am Jafar." He bowed low, the deep plum jewel in his tall turban glinting in the light. "I was the vizier of this kingdom at one time, and helped the queen navigate life with her Djinn powers. I have come to seek a place for my wisdom once more."

Jafar's thick, syrupy voice made Killian want to shudder, but what was more unnerving was that the man had spared no glance to his would be bride, or Emma. Jafar had leveled his gaze straight into Killian’s own, blinking slow, and never looked away even as his lips curled into a smirk. 

Killian tore his eyes away with difficulty as the next man began to speak. He was dressed in a grey and blue chiton, the silver clasps accentuating his pale skin, red hair, and matching the ice of his pinched glare at Emma. 

"I am Hades, named for the God and blessed by him to rule the Southern Hills. I conquered the Amazons, defeated the monsters this world let loose, and I alone tamed the great Titans of the old world until they grew too willful. I crushed them, and will crush anything in my path with ease should I gain your foresight." He knelt, dragging his glare from Emma to stare up at Jasmine. "You may not be my Persephone, but you will be a beautiful prize, hard won."

A knight dressed in leather studded mail bowed low next, dark hair and cheerful eyes matched by a blinding smile. He looked between both Jasmine and Emma with a prideful grin. 

"I am Arthur, the reason we are all here, King of Camelot, Holder of the Sword of Pure Truth, given to me by the spirit of Lake Nostros. I come to ask for either of your hands in marriage." Emma visibly tensed, and Killian swallowed back the urge to glare. "I am in need of a queen who loves her people, her kingdom, and her king. I thought I had that once, but betrayal and hardship is not unknown to any of us. I hope to not only heal you, Princess Emma, but potentially bring you or the beautiful desert diamond Sultana Jasmine happiness. You both deserve it, along with the utmost peace."

Arthur's eyes flicked to Killian briefly, and there was a glimmer of something that felt dishonest and unclean. It was gone so quickly it had to be imagined as Killian looked at the last man once more. 

His dark shock of hair was laid under a turban, the bright peacock feather in it held on by a glittering plum jewel. His face was familiar, large dark eyes and long eyelashes full of mirth and trepidation, as if he didn't quite belong. Killian looked harder, trying to place him. Was he a courtier? No, that couldn't be. Had he been in the market? The realization hit him, putting him immediately on edge. Aladdin winked at Killian in his disguise, as he purred out an introduction.

"I am Shah Ali of Ab'dua," Aladdin smirked up at the three of them. "And I will easily win your heart, as well as cure the Princess Emma. It's an absolute pleasure to meet you both."


	21. XIX

Emma was seated to the right of Jasmine again when they began to dine, Killian seated to the Sultana's left. If Emma didn't currently feel a sense of absolute frustration beyond anything she ever had felt for that man, she would have wished him closer for the way the four men sat across from them leered at her. Raja patted her hand in a comforting gesture from his seat next to her own, his paws giant over her sweaty palms. His deep, soulful eyes read hers with sympathy as the dinner began. 

"So, Princess Emma, is it?" Jafar smiled widely, stabbing at the vegetable tart served to them as their first course. "Regale us on how you acquired such an illness while eluding capture in your family's overthrow. It must be a fascinating tale."

He smirked at her, biting a piece of asparagus viciously as she tried to keep an easy-going grin plastered on her face. The way he drew out words as if she was some shallow and simple girl made her skin crawl. 

"Oh, I'm not sure how I caught it really," Emma cut at the tart, making tinier and tinier morsels. "I only know that whatever it is, it's baffling the most talented team of healers I have ever seen."

"Well, it looks similar to an ink blot hex -" Hades began, but Emma shook her head, and he paused. 

"I know. That's what they thought at first, because of Killian telling them about the black bruising." Glancing at Killian, she saw him stop pushing food around his own plate with a frown and stiffen. All eyes at the table rested on his tightening shoulders. "He didn't know, and I was unable to explain that the bruising is a good thing. I was gifted a soot sprite blessing by an ally. Killian…" Emma hesitated as she saw him stab at his food, but Jasmine patted her knee gently to push her forward. "Out of fear of poisoning, Killian disposed of medicine given to me by an ally to combat the illness before I could take it. He threw their herbal remedy into the sea. These soot sprites have been helping me, and are one of the only reasons I am here today. It was a mistake that cost me precious time; as they treated the charm, it weakened. I got worse. Now they are praying it continues to last."

"Oh, Princess, I'm so sorry. I'm sure the Dark One must have not done it maliciously," Arthur said, frowning. "It seems as if you both trust each other quite a bit -" 

"We do -" Emma tried to interrupt, but Killian glowered at Arthur darkly. 

"The Dark One is right here, and had no bloody idea about a soot charm, herbal remedies, or anything these 'allies' of yours gave you to possibly kill you; if the Dark One  _ had _ known, he gladly would have mentioned it on behalf of the Princess." His words were clipped and seeping with animosity. Emma swallowed hard, and Arthur looked at her with worry, eyes darting back to look at Killian. Their plates were taken away as more wine was poured and various cheese, fruit, and bread was provided. 

"Ah, a soot sprite charm. Interesting indeed that it's helping. That is effective for a very limited scope of illness," Hades nodded, rubbing at his chin. "Where did you find such an ally that could weave such inane magics?" 

A chill ran down Emma's spine, Hades eyes piercing her with a fixated precision. 

"Oh, we have been in the Mortal world. It's changed more than can be even explained," Killian shrugged, and Emma nodded in turn. Not a lie, but not an admission of where the Dragon and Kitsune base was, or that it still existed. Killian pressed on, a lazy, indulgent smirk settling on his features. "I'm sure you have not been recently?"

"No," Jafar sighed. "I've heard they have the most interesting machinations though."

"Their wars are what excite me, and luckily, you need not be there to experience it when you have recorded written histories," Hades smiled softly, propping his chin in his palm. "The beauty of the ever cycling world that is mortal pettiness."

"As if we Fae are much better," Ali mumbled. Emma looked at him, his dark eyes surveying the meat now sliding onto the table. 

Arthur laughed, clapping a hand harshly on Ali's back. "Quite right, quite right - Always the altruistic idealistic ponce, this one."

Ali frowned deeper, picking at his meal. 

By the time dessert began, conversation had become a sort of cyclical pettiness itself. Hades, Arthur, and Killian had begun a sort of verbal sparring over each other's intelligence as Jafar egged them on with a satin finesse, Ali pushed small bits of food around his plate while only looking up to gaze at Jasmine with a strange vehemence, and Jasmine herself gripped Emma's hand or thigh almost constantly as the men flirted or bragged incessantly trying to win favor. 

Arthur seemed the most genuine in Emma's opinion, his heart broken by his would be queen, and seeking a tender hand to cradle it. He talked about his many feats of heroism, his philanthropic efforts, the hopes of his great kingdom, and how he would bridge a kingdom together with his own. Emma herself was surprised to find that he wasn't completely unattractive, and he seemed to treat her and Jasmine with a good bit of respect. 

Jafar and Hades both seemed too dark and somehow deeply unsettling. There was something about them that made Emma feel as if they were predatory; a flash of tooth and spark on the eye that she could have placed in wolves. They both looked as if they were piecing together where the people around them were weak, waiting like snakes to strike. Hades seemed less confident than Jafar, warmer in a more personable fashion, but quicker to bouts of anger. Jafar gave Emma the creeps many more times over. 

Ali was the wild card. Surprisingly, Killian had exchanged not a single barb with him when he had spoken. It was as if Ali did not exist to Killian, although Ali himself seemed to be half present; he flipped between wanting to be there and desperately wanting to escape. Emma could understand the emotion, although it had been over a year ago since she had last dealt with that specific unease in royal matters. Was his kingdom without social etiquette? Did being outside of the United Realms mean you did not follow any social constructs? But then, Jasmine, Jafar, Arthur, and Hades seemed to know most of the stiffer mannerisms and propriety. 

It simply was bizarre how clearly Ali disliked the Sultana while he still fought for her hand. 

When they rose to take an after dinner libation, Ali trailed behind. Holding back herself, Emma watched him approach a servant clearing their plates. They began to argue after Ali seemed to say something to shock the Palace staff. 

"I don't care how much it costs. Do it. On my orders, and if anyone asks -" 

"M'Lord, I m-mean you no d-disrespect, but your orders m-mean little here. You would need -" The servant stammered, and Ali sighed, taking off his turban to comb his fingers through his hair with exasperation. 

"It was going to be thrown away, was it not?" Ali snapped at the man. 

"Well yes, but -" 

Ali took a step forward as the man cowered. "Then why -" 

"Omar, what is happening here?" Emma asked, and Omar bowed low with a sputter. Ali looked irritated, his eyes narrowing. 

"Princess, I am honored that you have remembered my name, but there is no need -" 

"I asked for the leftovers not being reused to be given to the hungry people I am sure must live in this kingdom," Ali gritted out. "It seems, however, that is too difficult - "

"It's m-much t-too good to waste on them," Omar stammered again, and Ali's eyes lit with a dark rage. He gripped Omar by the vest, and Emma squeaked out a warning. 

"Stop! Stop please!" Ali lowered the trembling man, who breathed a sigh of relief just as Jasmine turned the corner. Emma nodded at her, Ali still gripping Omar's vest as his fingers loosened. 

"Just what is going on?" Jasmine chided, her hands on her hips. 

"Ali wanted this food to be given to the poor living in your kingdom, Sultana. Omar was stating that it could not be done, and that it was too good for 'them', whoever 'them' is. I would hope no kingdom as opulent as Agrabah would have hungry people on the streets, but…" Emma trailed off, watching Ali step back with a look of surprise. 

Jasmine raised a cocky eyebrow. "If we do, I certainly have never seen them."

"Maybe you aren't looking hard enough then," Ali challenged, Jasmine's jaw dropping. 

"How dare you!" Jasmine hissed, but Ali only shook his head with a condescending smirk. "I look after this entire kingdom -" 

"You look over things alright, Sultana. You look over the things you don't see, because your guards remove them from your view. Although, since you spend the majority of your time here in your gilded towers, it isn't surprising that you have no idea how many go hungry," Ali sneered at Jasmine. She scoffed, looking at him with rage. 

"How would you even know? How dare you, how dare you -" 

"Take this food down to the streets then. Tonight. No guard clean up beforehand, just them protecting you while you serve hot meals. Let's go. Right now," Ali challenged, Emma's eyes going wide. 

"I - We - That's a logistics nightmare -" Jasmine said weakly. 

"If the food will be thrown away regardless, Jasmine," Emma smiled, batting her eyelashes. "I've not gotten a chance to see the market -" 

"Oh, not you too!" Jasmine groaned. 

"I mean, the worst thing that could happen is some food allotted for waste gets a few more hours of potential use. Please, Jasmine?" Emma watched as Jasmine fought herself internally before sighing. Whistling with two fingers, Raja appeared a moment later. 

"Sultana?" the Anisapi asked, eyeing Ali suspiciously. 

"I want this food brought down to the plaza square, and my seated box brought before it. I am about to prove this," She pointed at Ali, glaring as her chin rose in defiance, “Fool that he has no right to disrespect me when in the grace of my hospitality.”

“Fine, then, Sultana,” Ali challenged. Omar scurried off, and Jasmine turned in a huff to walk away. Before she could get very far, Ali called after her. “But what if I am right?

Jasmine whirled around, stomping back to him to poke a finger into his chest. “You aren’t.”

Ali grinned cockily, and Jasmine fumed. “Willing to wager?” he asked in a silky tone. “I bet you an evening with me that you, Sultana, the Seer of the Sands, are wrong.” Jasmine opened her mouth to say something, but Ali raised a hand. “And no peeking into the future to cheat, Sultana. No. I wager you are very wrong. I wager you have looked at your life, at Kings, Queens, and Royal fuck all, but never the poorest you rule over.”

Jasmine sputtered, and Emma watched helplessly as the viewing box was brought to them. As she stepped inside to escape the awkward tension rippling off the two, she heard Jasmine’s clear reply. 

“And when you are wrong, Ali of Ab’Dua, you will leave my kingdom to never return.” 

The viewing carriage, or 'palanquin', for the Sultana was lined in velvet, Ali seated next to Emma so Jasmine could stare him down from her seat as they approached the public square. Emma tried to focus on the sweet and spicy scents that drifted in through the small windows, or the colorful stalls that they passed as Jasmine and Ali bickered. It seemed everything they spoke about had them opposed to the other, from the size of Jasmine’s guard to their personal preferences on fruit. 

“Figs are pretentious, even to eat,” Ali sneered, as Jasmine raised an eyebrow with a smirk.

“You would know all about pretentious, as a spoiled, privileged, man-child -”

“Projection does not suit you, Sultana,” he replied coolly. Emma could practically feel the flame of Jasmine’s wrath, the heat of it as hot as the outside temperature. 

They arrived in the square in a silence that was thick with animosity, people scrambling to the shadows as if they were being chased away. Food was set forth as trumpets blared, an announcer stepping forward at the front.    
  
“The Sultana gifts you with this humble bounty, citizens of Agrabah. If you have not been fed, if you are hungry, step forward.” 

The square stayed silent, the bustle of the market dying within minutes.

“See?” Jasmine pressed, smiling slightly. Emma looked down at her feet, a strange feeling in her gut. 

Ali chuckled with a roll of his eyes. “I see alright. Your populace is terrified of you.” He stretched, cracking his shoulders and knuckles, then opened the door to the viewing box. The guards startled, but he gave a wave while he removed his fine clothes, leaving only a vest and trousers. 

“Ali, what -” Emma hissed, gesturing for him to return. He shook his head and offered his hand to her. “No! I can’t, people shouldn’t know I’m - “

At her protests, he rolled his eyes again, looking around. Spotting what he apparently needed, she saw him turn a corner. After a few moments he returned with a visibly shaken man who held several bejeweled veils. 

“Which one do you think suits this lady, good man?” Ali asked the man, who fumbled slightly. 

“The emerald, sir,” the man whispered. His forehead has begun to bead with sweat, and Emma felt intensely bad for him. 

“It’s beautiful. I’d be honored to wear such craftsmanship.” Emma smiled softly, taking it from his fingers. He flinched, but when her fingers gently took the material from his hands he relaxed. Ali placed several gold coins into his hands to pay, and the man’s eyes practically bulged out of his head. 

“I - This is too much -” he stammered, but Ali shook his head. 

“If you are hungry, if you have family that are hungry, or if you know anyone who is hungry: Please have them come forward. There is no ill will here. You are safe to do so.” Ali clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder, looking him straight in the eye. “If you are hungry, eat.”

The man glanced over Ali’s shoulder, looking at Emma and Jasmine. Jasmine sat frozen, staring straight at him. Turning on his heel, he pulled away from Ali and walked straight around the corner. Ali sighed, looking defeated. 

“Well, Princess,” Ali said sadly. “I hope you like your veil, and I wish you well. It’s a pretty parting gift seeing as I will soon be banished.”

Emma ran the silky fabric through her fingers, unable to look at Ali. She nodded, swallowing hard. It shouldn’t have made her feel so sad when he looked at her like that, but she knew without the blessing of the Sphinx he was right. He believed what he was saying with absolute certainty; Somehow he knew that there were hungry on the streets here. This was personal to him on some level. 

Carefully slipping on the veil, she stepped out of the box even as Jasmine protested. “I wanted to see the market, though. This may be my last chance.”

“Well, then we shall have to see the market.” Ali smiled, offering his arm. 

The market was beautiful, spices and shimmering draped fabrics displayed with care as callers barked out prices or pushed their goods in front of her face. Fish was plentiful, as were jewels, leather, and soaps, fragrances shifting constantly in the warm winds. 

They wandered through the stalls for an hour or so before Jasmine joined them, wearing a hooded brown muslin dress. Ali appraised her with a grin. 

"You rough up nicely, Sultana. You could be a street mouse any day -" 

"Don't you mean a street rat?" Jasmine snapped. 

"Oh no, you are far too soft and naive for that." He grinned, while her lips pressed into a thin line. "And street rats aren't generally as pretty as you are." 

Jasmine blushed, Ali saying the last bit with a strange absent-minded surety. Emma smiled, falling back as the two began to bicker over fig prices, the merchant looking on with amusement. She stopped to rest occasionally, watching them prod at each other. It reminded her of not that long ago when Killian had teased instead of running from her. 

" _ You don't want Ingrid to worry. That's so sweet." Emma teased, and he couldn't manage a scowl, only a slightly irritated upturn of his lips. "See, I'm right! Don't deny it -"  _

_ "We barely survived the wrath of a Sphinx, and a Satyr. They say third time's the charm, and it would give Ingrid the utmost satisfaction to be a means to my end." A twinkle of mischief lit his eyes and Emma laughed out loud before she could help herself.  _

_ "She did say she needs a new throw rug." Emma giggled into a coffee mug with a sideways glance. "We could take turns beating you."  _

When they made their way back to the viewing box, they encountered a long line of shabbily dressed women and children, a few men here and there. Ali quirked an eyebrow, ushering them to follow him through an alley, leading them around the people waiting for whatever it was. Turning a tight corner, they came out into the public square behind a fountain. 

Jasmine's mouth dropped in shock as she saw the square full of people, some clearly in need of a healer and others skeletal. A pair of children in patchwork rags shared a loaf of bread between each other, both looking as if the wind could blow through their skinny bodies. 

"Ali -" Jasmine tried, her voice thick as she swallowed. "I -" 

"Sultana, I wish I had been wrong. Please know that now, before our wager ends," Ali said quietly, approaching her to put a hand on her shoulder. "With that said, I will see you tonight at sun down." He gave her a peck on the cheek, bowed slightly to both Emma and Jasmine, then disappeared into the crowd. 

Jasmine looked stunned as they climbed into the viewing box, guards appearing to take them back to the palace as quietly as possible. Emma watched the Sultana stare out the window, half smiling, knowing that she was planning on making changes to benefit her kingdom. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

To say Killian found the Sultana's suitors annoying and disgusting would be an understatement. The time with them was torture, an exceedingly cruel and excruciating exercise in hatred. For one, both Jafar and Hades seemed eerily interested in his workings, bombarding him with unsubtle questions as if he was on display. They asked how the Darkness inside him worked, how its presence in his day to day life was made known, if he remembered his misdeeds, and if he felt remorse as if he would answer these questions in casual conversation. Instead he offered monosyllables, eye rolls, or simply ignored the question as if he was a petulant child. 

_ It suits you, you are a petulant fool of a boy.  _

Then there was the fact that they were all pompous in varying degrees that were still largely high, with astounding vain and narcissistic streaks longer than the worst nobles Killian had met. All three referred to Jasmine as an object once alone in his company, as if they were speaking about the serving tray their liquor was served off of, Arthur only adding Emma in as an afterthought. Jafar treated anyone around him except the other two men with a callous disregard for their intelligence, and an outright malicious streak to boot. Hades was not only malicious, but talked openly about his hatred for women and multiple types of Fae he considered beneath him. Arthur should have been a Saint next to them, but his rapport with the two struck Killian as not to be mistaken for coincidence. If it wasn't forced, there was something to be said about what lurked below his composure. 

Topping everything was knowing that the so called 'Ali' was really the thief Aladdin, without knowing any of his intentions. What if they were in danger? Killian had suffered through this meal and now this after dinner dessert and drinks, while Emma had disappeared into the aether with no regard to anything.  _ Again.  _ What if she was a target? Or the Sultana, which could easily result in a wartime coup. He needed to get away from this group as soon as possible to regroup with Emma. 

The Darkness reveled in the chaos as Killian chewed his tongue, trying not to explode. 

_ "Yes. Do anything for that sweet princess of yours would you?"  _

_ It's too bad you are responsible for killing her. Do you ever tire of making the wrong choices? Imagine doing everything in an effort to keep your little secret love safe, only to destroy her every step of the way. It's insidious, and I don't even have to help! _

"Dark One!"

Killian looked up to see the three suitors looking at him expectantly. 

"I asked if your Princess told you where she, Ali, and the Sultana were headed!" Hades snapped, his voice cold. "You are the Princess’s lackey, are you not? Answer when I speak to you."

Killian grunted with a shake of his head. 

"It's as if you don't want a cure for…" Jafar purred, rubbing his beard and curling its ends around his long fingers. "What was her name again? Anya? Emma?" 

Killian’s eyes flicked over to stare at the grinning man, who leaned over, balancing on his staff. 

Jafar shrugged, both arms coming to rest on the curved golden head of the cobra as he continued to stroke his beard. "I'd hate for anyone to find out that the Dark One not only sabotaged an alliance that tried to cure your Emma before landing in Agrabah, but during their stay as well. Can you imagine?" 

The Darkness cackled in his head as he seethed behind an impassive stare.

_ Your Emma. If only they knew that she could never be yours without you obliterating her.  _

"Honestly though Dark Thing, where did Emma and Jasmine get off to?" Arthur asked in a bored drawl. "Ali has one, someone should have a fair shot at the other; tis only fair."

"Ask a servant. I don't know, they were here, went to the kitchens, and then were gone with half of the guard. I assume they went to the market for whatever reasons," Killian bit out. "If you're so bloody inclined to see where they got off to, why don't you head there yourselves?" 

"Among the peasant scum?" Arthur asked as his face wrinkled with disgust. "Absolutely not. If I wanted to smell of camel dung, there are easier ways."

"Right, well. Then I'll excuse myself." Killian stood, giving a nod. 

"Yes, go fetch the Sultana and Princess, this behavior is silly. I can't do tests for this mysterious illness on a corpse. I mean, I could, but it doesn't seem preferential." Hades grinned icily and shooed Killian, the other men laughing. He left without complaint, heading down to the market with practiced ease. Taking a corner shortcut he'd discovered, he was surprised to hear Aladdin's voice. The man was arguing tersely with another as Killian stopped to listen. 

"I risked everything getting into the palace for you, and I got caught. They know to be on high alert, and if you think -" 

"Relax, Abu. She can't see us, we've cloaked the future from her."

"As if that isn't suspicious -" 

"It's not. She won't be able to tell. Djinn magic is the only thing that can take on Djinn magic. We have Djinn magic that I stole." Aladdin let a sly chuckle. "This job will be easy."

"It's not easy, and I'm not going to help you. Not when you're working with -" 

"Abu!" Aladdin hissed, and the Anisapi gave a series of scratchy chirps. 

"I'm out. I'm out, and I'm not risking it. I like the Sultana. I think today should prove she can change. What you want and what they want aren't the same," Abu said sadly, leaving in a scamper as Aladdin called after him. The Anisapi turned the corner around Killian without notice as Aladdin trotted behind. 

"Tough break there, uncommon thief," Killian drawled, pushing off from his lean against the wall. "Maybe betraying the Sultana and the Princess is not such a grand plan after all. Why are you here? You know you will be caught soon enough."

Aladdin laughed, clapping his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "Not unless you say something. Which you won't."

"Oh? That's presumptuous of you."

"Yeah." Aladdin smirked, standing straight as his eyes glinted. "I know you are the reason that Emma is sick. You caused her illness."

"That's impossible. How could you possibly -" 

"The Princess talks. She talked to me in particular, desperate for someone after losing her best friend, who I assume is some type of elemental, and another close friend: namely, you." Aladdin smirked as Killian's jaw began to work. "It's very clear with a little bit of her sad back story of how you ended up in Agrabah. You were both close before you underwent some rite together, that no one can supposedly remember, then afterwards you avoid her and push a wedge between yourself and her. The question is, are you trying to kill her? Is that why you threw her medicine away and keep blocking her from getting better?"

"Of course I'm not trying to prevent her recovery, I never meant to hurt her!" 

Aladdin grinned, as Killian realized his admission. "So you  _ did _ cause it."

"You - You great bloody -" 

"Ah ah, Dark One. Unless you want your princess to know everything, I suggest you listen to everything I'm about to say. She trusts me now, more so than you; and I can safely say now with certainty, you have feelings for her. Keep your mouth shut and I won't tell a single soul about what you did during the rite. Deal?"

"I have no feelings for her, and you have no proof - " 

Aladdin laughed again, examining his fingernails. "Neither do you. Shall I lay out your malfeasance, and hope for the best against my own?" 

"You -" 

"Deal?" Aladdin offered again, a sharpened edge to his voice.

"Deal," Killian grumbled, watching Aladdin turn away, his strides confident. They walked back to the palace in silence. Just past the gates they met the Sultana and Emma as they stepped from their boxed palanquin, Killian falling back as Aladdin moved towards Jasmine and Emma. Aladdin kissed Emma's cheek to her delight, earning a giggle as Killian felt a hot and unpleasant bitterness fill his body. 

Arthur stepped from behind a hedge, a rose in his fingers that he presented to Emma with a bow. Aladdin frowned as Arthur pulled Emma into the gardens, something unspoken passing between him and Arthur before they separated. 

Unease began to prick at the back of Killian's neck. 

Emma sat at the fountain side, her hair in a braid similar to what the Sultana seemed to favor, Arthur sitting next to her as they watched fish swimming. She looked relaxed, splashing her feet and laughing as Arthur animatedly told her something with large hand movements. Resigning himself to wait until the two separated to try to speak to Emma and at least get ahead of Aladdin or anything he could do, he returned to his chambers. 

He heard Emma return hours later as he studied Agrabah's constellations and their strange alignments, the sun long since disappeared from the pocket realm's sky. When he approached to speak with her, she was already in conversation with the Goblin from before, Iago. 

"What if it is him, Iago? These dreams have to mean something. I thought it was someone else, I thought it was… I thought it might be," Emma hesitated and he heard her sigh. "The man had different eyes than Arthur. They weren't - Arthur's eyes are green, with hazel gold. But everything else, the rough hands, the rings, the soft accent when whispering sweet nothings, the dark hair and bit of scruffy beard starting… Iago, what if Arthur is the one who keeps invading my dreams? The person I thought it was… it couldn't be him. He isn't kind, he is selfish and hurtful, and just… infuriating"

"You said that the man in your dreams makes you feel safe and loved?" Iago asked. There was a sound of something rattling, then a light clatter. 

"More than that, I loved him back. It feels as though I'm so close every time I wake up. I just desperately want him to be there instead of leaving me alone again. In the last one, he was… He kissed me. We kissed each other. I think - he saved me from something, but I don't know. Everything is so jumbled."

"The runes say that he knows your feelings, but is frightened. They say your dreams are leading you to love, and that he wishes to be with you as much as you wish the same. But… " 

"But what, Iago? Why are you frowning, what do you see?" 

"There's many obstacles for both of you. There's darkness in this man's past… And in his future. Be careful with your heart, Princess. Be careful who you trust it with."

"Thank you, Iago."

"My pleasure, and honor."

Killian swallowed thickly. His time was running out, she was remembering him more and more, Arthur a replacement in his stead. It broke him as the Darkness hissed, squirming to constrict his lungs. It paralyzed him as it drilled deep through his sorrow, then as if it was a corroding acid, began to burn away all of his once secreted feelings. 

When he was able to turn the corner by Emma's room at last, the Darkness crowed in its triumph, all love for her eradicated finally and for all time. 

Somewhere deep, deeper than the Darkness had ever dared to look, something within Killian  _ burned _ . 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

_ The smell of flowers and soft breeze playing with her hair does little to lessen the heat of him holding her.  _

_ "Is this a dream?" Emma murmured, pulling away slightly. "It has to be, because you, it can't be you. You're not here. You would never treat me like this, I would never forget if you did." _

_ "Love," His arms wrapped around her tighter, his dark hair tickling her cheek. A calloused hand gently caressed the back of her head. "I will remember for you, and keep you safe. It's better that way."  _

_ "Please, I know it isn't you." Heat was pouring from him, his arms too tight but still somehow so comforting. Emma could feel flame licking her as she pushed him away. "You're not like this. This isn't you."  _

_ He took a step back, and the sadness in the blue of his eyes froze her. She shivered, missing his warmth against herself. Her chest ached, and the air had become thin as cold seeped into her bones. "Emma. I'm so sorry." _

_ "Stop it. Just -" It couldn't be him. It wasn't, it couldn't be him. Not him, not those eyes that screamed secrets at her; not the way he looked at her now with such anger and hatred. It wasn't him.  _

_ His shadow seemed to grow as he turned away. Emma reached for him, unable to control her need for warmth as it began to snow over the bright flowers in the garden. "It's better for you to forget."  _

_ "No, please don't leave me!" The wind whipped around her, snow hitting her face like freezing needles. It blanketed the world around her, absolving it of color and sounds outside her teeth chattering. Her breath puffed in the air as she yelled his name -  _

"Killian!" Emma sat up, panting under the plush blankets as she shook. A coughing spell hit her with force, and she rolled onto the floor from confusion, unbalanced from the sudden awakening. The floor was cold under her skin, sweat trapping her in the sheets. An attendant quickly ran in to help her up.

"Oh, Princess! I heard you call out, what - oh you are burning up, let me -" Emma heard the Elven woman sigh as doctors and a few more attendants swarmed the room. She took a stumbled step forward, caught as more gasps sounded and her own breath would not come. 

In the dark of unconsciousness, it was uncomfortable and painful, eyes fluttering open on occasion to see bright light shone into her pupils or concerned faces poking her with this or that. The Sultana made appearances, as did Ali among the other suitors, but him more than most. Killian only appeared behind her eyelids as she tried to escape the strange dreams that featured him front and center. Her brain and heart were just as sick as her lungs for him to be appearing with such emotion. 

In the quiet she listened, straining to hear any sounds that could be him, only conjuring more hazy images of the imposter that haunted her dreams. His laughter and the thrilling feel of his lips against her own were so much more than she had ever hoped for. When she heard the soft hum of a man's appreciation, her hopes grew high until Jasmine's whispers identified who had made it. 

"I'm scared for her, Ali. She's been a good friend, and I - what if you don't find a cure? What if no one does, or if Hades or Arthur -" 

"Jasmine, it will be alright," Ali whispered in reply. "You have been a great friend to her too. We'll figure something out. With Jafar gone, Hades is working overtime, and Arthur wants… He doesn't want to marry you. He has his heart set on Emma. We're working together to identify a cure."

"Thank you, Ali. I know I should not hope or show bias, but after our date… After  _ everything _ , I feel very strongly that…" 

There was a soft sigh, and Emma could hear the sound of their mouths moving together as she tried desperately to fall away into the blackness. Their date must have gone well, if they were this enthusiastic with her as an unwilling, unknown audience. 

The idea of being kissed like that, or of comfort brought by someone in the name of love, pulled her back into dreaming. Temptation lay underneath her fingers tracing trails under a naval suit, or letting a firm hand linger on the small of her back while they swayed. Emma fell back into memories of waking up enveloped in warmth, the flutter of happiness that burst upward when she stirred and was immediately comforted by a gravelly voice. What has she done to ruin the way he smiled at her while they danced? Had it all been a dream? 

When it faded next, a rough hand squeezed her own, the owner's voice accented and quiet. Her heart beat quicker in anticipation. 

"Princess, your beauty is still undeniable, even now." 

Emma coughed, turning her head with slight difficulty to see Arthur appraising her. 

"You're awake! Oh, Princess, I'm so happy to see those beautiful eyes of yours." 

Emma felt a strange disappointment, but smiled back softly. "Wha -" The words broke off into coughing that left her clawing at her throat. 

"Water for the princess! Please!" Arthur shouted, sending attendants scurrying. "Emma, hold on my delicate flower. I've got you."

A servant brought water, Arthur snatching it from his hands to pour into her mouth. Emma pushed his hand away as she sputtered, spilling water over herself in the process. Taking a small sip eventually, she sighed, turning to look at him. He was frowning, wiping away water from his tunic with disgust. 

"I'm -" Emma felt her lungs constrict and her throat burn even from the smallest bit of speech. Her attempted apology stuck like a shard of glass she could not swallow, sending her coughing again. When she looked at Arthur for help, she was surprised to see him looking at her with anger as if he was disgruntled. When she collapsed back against the bed again, it was if she had imagined it. 

"Oh, you sweet rose petal. It's alright. I know you didn't mean to get water on my velvet. It's fine. Lay back, let me speak for you as a King would for his Queen." His face was soft, and he gently stroked her face with a cloth. Though he was a great relief as he spoke orders to the servants, doctors, and attendants, his words didn't comfort her; Something there unsettled her, his bright smile half heartedly returned as she pondered on why. 

Maybe it was in the way he spoke over her, even in their moments alone together, or insisted that she should rest her voice so he could continue his lengthy monologues. There was also his treatment of the servants and her doctors, his orders given sharply as he ignored them otherwise. A realization hit her suddenly about her discomfort: Arthur reminded her of home. 

He reminded her of the courtiers, the many nobles that her parents admonished or grumbled about for their treatment of people, and their attitudes in general. Her father had used his powers as King to block her suitors, but she had been flirted with by men like Arthur. She had not tolerated it then, but now it soothed her, and Arthur charmed her… 

If she did accept his proposal, she could return to normalcy. She could love him as long as his veneer did not cover deeper problems than the banality of nobility. Coughing again, Emma pulled up the covers around herself. 

"I've gotten myself some breakfast, and a grapefruit juice for you. I hope that you don't mind, I didn't know what you would like," Arthur said, accepting a plate of meat. He dug into it vigorously while Emma was given a tall glass with a straw. She eyed the liquid suspiciously. Grapefruit alone was a questionable breakfast, sour and entirely too much for a sore throat. Taking a sip, she gagged. 

Arthur didn't notice right away, too engrossed in his ham, bacon, and sausages. When he did notice, he sighed and took away the full glass. 

"What would you like then, little flower? Some yogurt? Pudding? Maybe a hot drink?" At the last suggestion, Emma nodded vigorously. Imagining silky hot chocolate or tea had her mouth watering. Jasmine had introduced her to a spicy mix of tea and something like cinnamon milk that had calmed her stomach but also made her feel invigorated. Trying to speak and failing with a squawk, Emma reached down to write down the drink for Arthur. 

"A Kay Tea? Kye? Chay? I don't know these foreign foods, maybe a nice hot water with lemon -" 

A servant interrupted, Arthur's eyes going steely. "Chai, a chai tea. It's popular here, and we also make a hot rice drink that is very good for -" 

"Did I ask you to speak?" Arthur gritted out, Emma pulling on his sleeve to get his attention. The servant shook her head, stepping back. "You deserve better than these strange commoner's peasant fare. I'll get you some actual tea." 

Emma shook her head, annoyed, but Arthur began to talk about his home and their varying teas. Emma's mind began to wander when he spoke about artisanal rose blends, thinking about a life in a strange kingdom. At least it was above ground, and had florals.

Tea was brought for them, and she took the tea cup carefully, examining the details. Taking a sip, she closed her eyes for a moment to savor the herbal taste. It wasn't what she wanted but it transported her home, to the marble floors and carved arches in the palace, the stone walkways and brightly lit rooms with their gilded mirrors. She could hear the rustle of skirts, clinking of spoons against small dessert plates, or the muted laughter of whatever nobility was presently sitting in front of her. 

Arthur smiled broadly at her as she opened her eyes, taking her free hand in his. "I did so hope you would like this better. You deserve the best life a royal woman of your pedigree can get."

Emma sighed at his choice of words, but a smile hadn't left her face since the first taste of his gift to her. Curling her hand in his, she managed to clear her throat. 

"I like it very much."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Arthur left in the early afternoon, kissing her softly and leaving with another peck on the crown of her head. There was business to attend to, her cure to work on most prevalently. Emma had felt worse since her last nightmare, alarmingly feeling something move around her chest as if there was a sticky ball rattling within the cavity. The doctors were still perplexed, doing their best to keep the soot sprites alive as the true issue remained elusive. Emma needed a cure, badly. Every day, the time she had grew shorter. 

Despite it all, she resolved to hide it the best she could. Not willing to spend her weeks in seclusion or in bed, she wanted to keep her kingdom safe and be with her friends. They would be the family she could not have. They would have to help her finish what parts of her journey they could. 

Killian would get the shard, and Jasmine would take over the United Realms as a proxy ruler until a ruler was announced. Emma prayed whoever it was, her parents and the rest of her family would be spared for her failure. It was the best she could do in the worst case scenario that she was living. At least Killian would be free, and maybe even happily living his life. He could be with Ingrid and Anna, carefully seeking out where they could get a house somewhere with a bakery and a garden. Maybe he would laugh more eventually, or smile, even with the Darkness free to abuse him further. The thought of him baking some pastry with flour in his hair made Emma feel a bizarre mixture of happiness and deep sadness. 

Ignoring it was enough for now. With what time she had left, she promised herself not to fixate on the mysteries that made up Killian. 

_ "You shouldn't be here, darling," he whispers, holding her hand. They're both shivering, the water from the rain frigid and mostly ice. He tugs her forward as they climb, thunder pounding around them as lightning illuminates the woods. "Why did you come to my nightmare?"  _

_ "You can," Her hand slips on a slick stone, feet digging in the mud. She's still barefoot from before. He pulls and she is again next to him, lifting her onto a rocky ledge. "See me?"  _

_ "I always could. I couldn't do anything but watch, I can never do anything but watch it happen." Holding her while they both shiver, soaked through, he runs a hand through her hair to push the clinging strands away from her face. The wind is strong, making even her dress flap in its gusts. His arms feel safe, even as her bones vibrate the warning of impending doom. As if he knows, he holds her tighter. "I could see you. I could hear you, and I could feel your hand in mine or when you bandaged my side. I'm sorry you had to see this." _

_ "Killian…" Emma whispered, his forehead meeting hers. "Killian, don't go. Please. Don't let it take you from me." _

_ There's a great clap of thunder, shaking the ground and roaring like a great monster. Killian pulls from her, her hand still in his as he moves away.  _

_ "I'm sorry. It's better if you forget." _

_ The Darkness is in its full glory before them, Killian looking at her with those eyes as it sucks him in. Clamoring for his hand but held by unseen forces and howling winds, Emma tries to bring him back to her, tries to hold on and not let go. Wind swirls around her, spinning until she's unable to breathe in its vacuum and let's go of his hand as she falls.  _

"Breathe! That's it! She's coming to!" Someone was speaking, and Emma took in a hiss of air that hurt to exhale. Shaking off dizziness, she stared directly into the worried eyes of a doctor, Jasmine, Prince Ali, and Abu. 

"What happened?" Her mouth felt dry, but her voice was back to a rasping drawl. 

Jasmine hugged her tightly, followed by Ali who easily wrapped his arms around both of them. He was wearing sleeves instead of just a vest, and Emma was about to tease them both for their matching formal dress, but stopped short. She held her tongue, examining the long, jagged, scars that ran up his arm. Confused, Emma tried to talk, but Jasmine put a finger to her mouth. 

"Hush," Jasmine admonished. "You were walking with us in my apartments, then you collapsed. Are you alright? What happened?" 

"Oh. I think I must have simply over exerted myself," Emma mumbled. Jasmine's eyes narrowed, and Emma shrugged sheepishly. "I'm still learning my limits, so I just needed a break I guess. I didn't have much of a breakfast with Arthur."

Ali pushed away, looking at her with concern. "You had breakfast with Arthur?" 

Emma nodded. "In fact, I had come here to ask when his meeting with cure researchers would be over. I'm curious about their progression."

Ali scratched the back of his head, exchanging a glance with Jasmine. 

"Why don't you come sit down in my quarters," Jasmine asked politely. Abu smirked, looking at Ali as they helped Emma inside with the Anisapi guarding the door. 

Inside the chamber was a massive bed and vanity, with a sheer and dark set of curtains blocking a large balcony. Jasmine and Ali helped Emma onto the bed where she laid back against the heaping pillows. 

"What's the bad news, then?" Emma whispered. Ali swallowed hard, and Jasmine looked at her with a sad smile. 

"How do you know it's bad news?" 

Laughing lightly at Jasmine's question, Emma cocked her head slightly. "When is it ever good news?" 

"Jafar is gone. He - he was disqualified for an attempt at… He's just gone," Jasmine stated carefully. Ali looked angry for a moment before taking a deep breath. 

"Where is the bad news in that?" Emma asked carefully. 

"He took all the research, and ruined Hades and Arthur's. They were struggling to find a cure without this setback." Jasmine looked down. "We don't know -" 

"I understand."

"Emma -" 

"I don't need to hear it out loud. I don't need you to confirm what I'm already feeling. Tell me something else instead." Grinning, Emma pointed between Ali and Jasmine. "Like how your date was."

Jasmine blushed deeply, and Ali laughed with a smirk. 

"It was very nice." Jasmine smiled, looking to Ali with clear affection. 

"It must have been for you both to make out in the room of a sick person. It was an interesting wake up call." Emma giggled, Jasmine's eyes going wide as Ali burst into laughter. She blushed a bright red as he tickled her with the ends of her braid. "You two look happy. Not to rush things, but if you like him, fuck this entire suitor nonsense. Choose him."

"Emma!" Jasmine choked, laughing. Ali curled an arm around her and sat, nuzzling into her side. "It's - I want to know someone. We are doing just that, and I like this. Is that not what you are doing with Arthur?" 

"I suppose," Emma said coyly. Ali stiffened slightly, and she leveled her gaze at him. "Maybe tell me about this date of yours, and why it was so very nice."

Jasmine wove the tale of a starlight ride by magic carpet across her kingdom, shared honeyed fruits and tarts with pistachios baked on top. Aladdin showed her beauty she had never seen before, his modesty shining through embarrassment while he blushed. He occasionally added in moments, both of them laughing at the inside jokes they shared. 

Emma felt the same pang of sadness even through exhaustion, the same doubts that twisted into fear in her stomach. She could never imagine this with Arthur, and certainly not with Nil. The only one that had ever made her feel close to the warmth Jasmine and Aladdin gave off was… 

_ His eyes were soft, and she wished that he could just remember more strongly than ever as thunder rumbled outside her tiny cottage.  _

_ "Stay here tonight. You… You told me once that you hate thunderstorms. I don't know if that has changed, if this you does or not, but…" Emma begged unabashedly, half asleep in his arms by the fire. "Please." _

_ Even in her exhaustion, she reveled in his proximity. Looking down at her, he smiled sadly. “I'll stay, I always stay." _

_ "Even if I don't remember you at all, please don't go," Emma whispered, and he nodded.  _

_ "I'll stay. I always stay." Killian whispered again, holding her closer. Emma was sure her heart was breaking, the truth in his statement clear as crystal. He believed it without question, but Emma had heard the same promise fall from his lips before. "I will stay." _

_ Burying her face in his chest, she prayed this time it was not a lie.  _

Emma woke in her chambers, attached to various equipment by strange tubing, spells or wards hovering above her that rhythmically swayed. She blinked, confused, looking around to see Arthur by her bedside once more. He was engrossed in a book, his dark eyes scanning the pages. 

"Anything… interesting?" she asked, with a cough catching her on the last syllable. He held up a finger and continued reading several moments longer, then closed his book. 

"No, I'm afraid not. Mostly Naval tactics for bracing a coastal kingdom against raids." Arthur shrugged slightly. "Nothing I didn't already know, and certainly not reading that you would find interesting. You need to focus on getting better and not pushing yourself with such difficult topics."

He pressed a finger to her nose gently as if his quip diminishing her intelligence was amusing, then placed his book aside to get better seated next to her. Emma bit the inside of her cheek, irritation at his dismissal making her wish she could argue. Her lungs burned from the effort of a few words; the conversation that she wanted to have would be far more than that at best. 

"I like… Strategic… Planning… I like… Battlefield… Tactics… They are -" 

"Sure, sure, my rosebud," Arthur interrupted, patting her hand as if she was a child. "Now, I'd like to talk to you about something actually important, something that matters. Please pay me attention?" 

Emma stared at him in frustration, giving him a grunt of acknowledgement. 

"You fell asleep in the Sultana's chambers, so they brought you back here. You're pushing yourself too hard." He squeezed her hand, and Emma felt conflicted once again. Although annoying and pompous, Arthur was trying. He was attempting to be kind. "You need someone to help you, and to share your burden with. Especially now."

A spasm in her lower body sent her coughing, the intense fit making her back bow. She was sure that her ribs were close to breaking from the strain. 

Arthur wiped her forehead dutifully. He sighed again as she looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. 

"My sweet flower beauty, my dream, my Emma… Will you marry me?" 

Emma's eyes shot open wide, her heart racing. She could not speak, pained gasps catching in her throat as she stared at the ring box in his hands, the giant sparkling diamond in its center surrounded by rubies. The immediate hatred of its gaudy settings almost eclipsed her need for air. 

"Need… to think -" she tried, and Arthur nodded. 

"I understand, but I have something you need to see before you say no. It's important." His smile faded. 

Arthur began to talk, and Emma's heart sank. 

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Pacing the floor and practicing what he would say to Emma had become Killian's only way of handling her strange schedules of late. When he requested her, or simply strolled by her quarters as he often did due to their proximity, Arthur or Aladdin were not far off. Either that, or the princess had taken to small walks or napping which he could not blame her for in her condition. There had been minor commotions that he had heard the tail end of, but when he made sure that it was safe he only found servants, attendants, and perplexed doctors scrutinizing his presence. 

"Hello, Princess," he began, still not over his anxiety at trying to broach his distrust of the suitors along with their timing. "I have something of urgency to discuss with you."

_ "I want nothing to do with you, and your mood swings. Poison another Princess, Dark One." _

The Darkness sneered in a falsetto impression of Emma's voice, and he felt like a green lad again. His heart beat rapidly as he gritted his teeth and continued. 

"Regarding the suitors and their timing -" 

_ "Yes, fortunately they came so I could be relieved of your presence. Thank the Gods for it; Arthur is a wonderful catch." _

"- I believe that it is due to a planned surveillance attempt, and that they are seeking out our weaknesses. I think they are planning something -" 

_ "Planning a ball, or an event for me to be paraded at. I'll be a figurehead once more! I'll be better off with him and you will never have your freedom." _

"To do you harm. I know that I have made many mistakes." Licking his lips, he swallowed hard. "But I would never let harm befall you if I could prevent it. Your well-being, your life being safe…" 

_ Understatement, vessel. You are the harm she needs to prevent. Her well-being is worthless as long as you and her Goblin betrothed exist. Except that your fate is me and her fate is to die some broodmare.  _

"It's the only thing that makes it possible to ignore the Darkness," he whispered, and in turn the Darkness growled in a low rumble of fury. "Please consider what I've said."

He practiced repeatedly, until a knock came at his door. A voice called out behind the wood, one of the servants. "Ah, sir? Your presence is requested by Arthur in the library. Are you able to -" 

Killian opened the door, brushing past the messenger as he walked straight to meet Arthur. It was a bold play on their part, but if he could talk to Emma first… He passed her room, noticing the lights dimmed within. Jasmine and Aladdin sat on a lounge, whispering to each other while an herbalist created a purple smoke that smelled of thick mint and blackberry. It poured over Emma, who behind the veil of her curtains did not move much more than a shuddered wheeze. 

He couldn't risk it now; Emma would have to understand the delay in his confessions.

The walk was brisk, his haste to hold off the Darkness, any other visitors, and her illness setting him in double time. 

The library doors pushed open, the deep purple walls within lit by a fire bowl resting in its center. Arthur sat lounging on an emerald and magenta couch smoking a hookah in large puffs, smiling broadly as he saw Killian. 

"Well hello, Dark One. Nice of you to join me, care for -" 

"What is it that you need, Arthur?" Killian growled. The room was filled with a light layer of smoke. "I have things I need to be -" 

"I thought you and I might share a celebratory drink and smoke. I hadn't gotten a congratulations yet and it's probably untoward without her actual confirmation, but…" He took another long drag of the hookah's hose, puffing out a long tendril of smoke. "I digress." 

Killian grunted, waving a hand in the air to clear his vision. "I have no idea what you're talking about mate, but I don't intend to celebrate with you. If you'll excuse me -" 

"I proposed to her. To Princess Emma, I mean."

Whipping around, Killian took a step forward, staring at Arthur with wide eyes. "You what?" 

"I proposed to her," Arthur repeated. "She's dying, Jafar is gone, Hades can't find a cure, Jasmine isn't interested in me, and Emma is. I'm not going to waste the opportunity to be considered a viable candidate to rule in her stead." He grinned, rubbing his beard in thought. "If I can get her to last through a marriage ceremony, that's all the better. If she can stay alive longer than that, I can claim loss of an heir by her untimely end. She knows it's in her best interest to accept."

"She won't. She'd never -" 

"She would. A servant said she asks for a Goblin to dissect her dreams that I am in. It's just a matter of time." Arthur smirked, leaning back in the chair. "It's alright to be jealous, Dark One. For all your fearsome reputation, the fact that you haven't drank your fill of her is surprising. If I was in your stead, I'd have left her wrapped around my fingers both figuratively and literally!" he laughed, and Killian stood abruptly, storming away. 

Arthur sprinted up behind him, still chuckling. "Come now, don't be angry, I was only joking. She's a fair maid if I've ever seen one. Even this illness can't dampen her beauty or how her body moves with so much…" He gestured with both hands, making two mirrored curving motions. Killian's teeth ground together, his muscles tensing. " _ Grace _ ."

"Arthur, mate, if you know what is good for you, you will -" 

"Are you mad about her dying? Is that it? I thought the Darkness in you would rejoice at that, especially since the shard is in the care of the Sultana." Killian turned on his heel, the Darkness heavy as it pushed up from the binds he'd tried to place on it. Arthur followed, at his side hounding him with his mockery. Covering his mouth with his hand, he mimed a face of false confusion and shock. "Oops. I guess you didn't know? And here I thought you and her were close."

"I will tear you apart mate," Killian snarled. "I will rend you limb from bloody limb -" 

"So that's it then. She's your weak spot, the Darkness isn't at rest. I had guessed it was on a thin leash chomping at the bit, but no. It's right under the surface if you know where to dig." Arthur's smile was wide now, his eyes dark. "How very, very interesting."

Hades appeared from the gloom, becoming corporeal from a column of dense, black smoke. "Can we drop the charade then? I'm frankly ready for this to be over."

"I'd rather wait for Emma's answer to my proposal, as now that the Darkness is awake I believe it will be a long while until our cover is blown. The shard awaits you, Dark One." Killian felt himself slipping further with each second, the undertow pulling him down while raising the Darkness from where it had laid in wait. It had control now, its prior mutterings nothing compared to its screeching at him as Arthur smiled. "You simply have to take the matters into your own hands." 

"My… Own… Hands…" Killian heard it speak through him, his panic rising as he lost control. "The shard. The  _ shard _ ."

"Go. Get what was taken from you," Hades added before disappearing. 

"It lies in the treasure vault near the Sultana's apartment. Get what is yours, Dark One. Get what is yours and return to glory." Arthur gave a small bow, and Killian felt the Darkness pull him away, moving him against his will through the palace. 

"No! This isn't right -" he gritted, and held on firmly to a carved column. A servant stared at him as he passed, hurrying away much quicker when a fresh snarl rose in his throat. 

_ Get the SHARD.  _

_ Get the shard and be done with this!  _

"No, I - I can't -" 

_ How  _ ** _dare_ ** _ you deny me? I am your master, I am you!  _

"I won't. I have to protect her, I have to warn her!" He tried to move his foot, but lurched forward instead. In an instant, he was before the treasury Arthur had mentioned, the magic on him fizzing from the internal power struggle. The door locks were enchanted, but the Darkness controlled his left side, his arm lurching forward to touch the lock. It clicked open within seconds of dark magic drenching it in full force. 

"No! Stop!" His right hand caught the door frame and held tight, the left side of his body pulling him forward as the right held back. He groaned in pain as the Darkness attempted to tear him in twain. "I will not let you, I won't!" 

He violently slammed to the ground, his left hand pulling him forward as his nails dug into the marble tiling. Several guards approached in concern but the black magic of the Darkness spun around him like a cobweb, dropping him in front of the pedestal that held the shard. He heard shouts of confusion from a small distance as his left hand made a flicking motion, barring the door with a screech of the locking mechanism. 

_ MINE MINE MINE MINE  _ ** _MINE_ ** _ AT LAST YES IT IS MINE -  _

Killian wrestled with himself as his left hand desperately tried to close around the chain, throwing himself back with effort. He pushed back at the Darkness desperate to get it under control as it broke him, bent him, and refused his hold. 

Realizing with keen certainty there was only one way out of this, he took a deep breath, then let go of control. The Darkness grabbed a hold of the chain, shrieking its triumph, and Killian used its momentary lapse to move them. 

As he appeared in Emma's chambers and stretched to throw it at her, the Darkness became aware at the same moment as him that something was wrong, his body frozen with his arm stuck mid-throw. 

His eyes widened further to look at the grim faces surrounding him, all but a grinning Arthur wearing varying states of disgust. 

"Emma, bloody hell, I -" 

"As you can see, we caught him using Kraken ink. It temporarily causes paralysis, even on the most powerful of dark magic." Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose dramatically. "He went for the fake shard without a moment's hesitation, and then I believe his return to your quarters, Princess, was with the intention of taking your life." 

"No! No, I swear it, Emma. I swear I realized that I was out of control, and I was scared for you. I came to return it. If it's left where I can find it, the Darkness will never stop. You must hide it again -"

"A likely excuse now that he's caught!" Hades pointed out. 

Turning his eyes towards Emma, he realized just how long it had been since he had seen her. She was a gaunt caricature of what she had been with hollowed cheeks, the skin beneath her eyes darkened to the color of bruises. Her hair stuck to her face in stringy strands as her chest struggled to rise, and she breathed using a strange line of tubing in her nose with obvious effort. Her eyes were still bright jade, staring through him as they grew glassy and she tore them away from his own. 

"Emma, please..." His fingers twitched at the attempt to reach for her, his arms stuck by the ink’s magic. 

Emma shook her head, unable to look at him. 

"I am begging you Emma. Aladdin -  _ Ali _ \- is a thief and working with these two; I don't know why. I don't know what they're after, but they aren't working on a cure. Don't listen to a word -"

"Princess, I'm so sorry for this. I didn't want you to have to know the truth when I thought the Dark One and you were so close," Hades began. "There is no cure I can find, because… Well, because Ali discovered from the Dark One's own admission, he caused this illness in you."

"That's - Emma please listen to me, I never - I wouldn't." Killian felt his other arm twitch upwards, Emma's eyes downcast. "Please let me explain!" 

"No. No, I think you have done enough," Aladdin said, quietly. "You told me that you were the cause, and I kept your secret because I feared for the Sultana and the Princess’s lives. Now that it's out in the open, we can admit that we are no match for the Dark One's handiwork."

"That's not -" 

"Take him away," the Sultana hissed. "I want him in the dungeons, lock him in the best cell we have. Unless, do you have objections Emma?" 

"I…" Emma looked up, coughing for a moment as she stared at him with clear pity. "I have no objections." The whisper of her voice made him swallow hard, managing a small nod. 

He was led away, placed in the dark damp of a cell so much like the one he had lived in before, wondering again if this was the punishment he so rightfully deserved. 


End file.
